


Miraculously Their Own

by SocialBookWorm



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Actor!Roman, Adoption, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Murder, Bullying, Child Abuse, Child Logan, Everyone Is Gay, Financial Issues, Fluff, Homophobia, Hospitals, M/M, Murder, Past Child Abuse, Racism, Teacher!Patton, Violence, child Virgil, or queer, trial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 55,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialBookWorm/pseuds/SocialBookWorm
Summary: “Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone, but still miraculously my own. Never forget for a single moment, you didn’t grow under my heart, but in it.”-Fleur Conkling HeylingerSometimes, a family is two gay dads and a broken genius(Well, more like, two gay dads, a broken genius, a trans aunt, two Lesbian grandmothers, the anxious boy who sits in the back of the class and his queer dads, a whole host of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and finally a puppy that still needs to be trained. But Logan may need some time to realize that)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yooooo Huge Thanks to WisePuma23 for helping me brainstorm this one, though at the rate she's going, it's going to be another co-project with her XD
> 
> Shorter chapter than what most of them well be usually, but have this anyways

Logan curled a little tighter into his chair, tracing patterns along the arm rest. Andromeda, Draco, Perseus, Canis Major, Canis Minor. He knew them all by heart and could picture them scattered across the sky, mixing with the ones that he had made up with Roman and Patton. Little Professor, Big Professor, Lionheart, Sword in the Stone. He couldn’t remember the stories that Roman had come up with for them, just the soothing tone of his voice and the crickets that had chirped in the background.

“Hey,” Logan startled as Roman crouched down to his level. The blood on Logan’s shirt flaked off, drifting towards the hospital’s floor and he found himself reaching out before Roman could. Papers scattered against the floor as Roman pulled Logan as close as he could. 

Logan trembled, burying his face in his father’s shoulder and tried to blink back tears as he dug his fingers into Roman’s shoulder blades. Roman pulled him back to place a hand on his cheek and search his eyes. “Are you alright? Are you hurt, god I should have thought,  _ fuck _ , wait no stay here I can get a nurse to look you over again, or a change of clothes, goddamnit I’m sorry-”   
  
Roman made to stand up again, but Logan lunged, tangling his fingers in Roman’s coat. More dried blood, Logan felt like it was everywhere, under his fingernails, on his dad, smeared across their kitchen floor. Coating everything he had come to love. 

“No!” he shrieked, and Roman startled. Logan gripped even tighter, feeling his hands tingle from the force of it, and he was acting hysterical. Logan knew that but for once he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Don’t leave me too! You promised you’d never- never- never-”   
  
Roman’s eyes softened and he scooped Logan up as easily as he always had. He pulled Logan close and flopped back against the chair, nuzzling at Logan’s hair. “Shhhh, it’s ok Little Professor, I did, I promised, I’m not going anywhere I swear,” Roman said gently as Logan tried to burrow into his shoulders and chest.

“I’m sorry,” Logan whispered.

“Not your fault,” Roman said back, fierce as the heroes in the books they read together, “ _ Never _ your fault Lo, never ever, got it?”

“But-”

“No Butts!” Roman said, “Remember Patton decreed it so, no butts until you’re well over fifteen.”

Logan trembled again. He didn’t want the reminder of who they were here for, of why he was covered in blood, of the wild beeps and rushing bodies and Roman screaming. Rough fingers scratched at his scalp, and Logan clutched at the cloth in his hands even tighter. Roman’s chest vibrated as he hummed, and Logan felt tears leak out the corner of his eyes.

“He’s going to be fine,” Roman said, something distant in his voice. “We both know him. Pat’s always fine, and he’ll be fine this time too.” Roman shifted and Logan looked up to meet his bright grin. Roman brushed away his tears gently and bent over to gather up the papers he had dropped.

“Come on! You feel like learning about the medical process today, bud?” Roman asked and kept his arms bracketing Logan, as he thumbed through the information the doctors needed.

“Not really,” Logan muttered sulkily, crossing his arms and leaning back and away from the papers. He didn’t want to know how much  _ this _ cost them, didn’t want to think about how it was all his fault again. He knew how this ended. They’d either give him back- because they had the silly thought that he could have better parents than them, idiots- or the state would declare them unfit and take him away.

“Yeah,” Roman said, his eyes tightening around the edges with an emotion that Logan would have normally asked Patton about, “Neither do I, Edgar Allen Lo. Neither do I.” He booped Logan’s nose lightly and Logan blinked. “But they won’t let us in to see our Dear Ray of Dadshine without them so, learning we have to go through.”

“That one was worse than usual,” Logan said softly and Roman laughed. Logan leaned back into the action, snuggling up against the arm Roman was using to hold the clipboard steady.

“Well you’re our Son-shine, so that makes Patton the Dad-shine!” Logan hummed in disagreement, and the scritch of pen stopped for a moment as Roman paused to drop a kiss against Logan’s head. “I love you, Logan, that’s not going to change.”   
  
“Hey,” Roman whispered, and Logan blinked at him, sleepy and ready for a nap already. Roman’s grin grew mischievous and he pressed a finger to his lips. Oh, Logan straightened slowly, because Roman only did that when he was-

“You wanna sneak in to see Patton without bothering with all this?”

-going to break rules and drag Logan into the trouble with him.

Logan nodded quickly and Roman cackled under his breath, gathering Logan close to his chest. “Hold on bud,” Roman said, a new life in his movements, “We’re going to say hi to your dad.”


	2. Not Every Card's A Trump Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks once again to WisePuma23 for all her help with this story! She is truly a gift of a friend and co-writer
> 
> Also expect weekly updates for the next little while, every Friday hopefully! :D

*387 Days Before*

It was too loud. Not that Logan had any control over it, but it still made his shoulders hunch towards his ears and he buried his face in his book a little bit more. One of the other children raced past his corner and Logan pulled his legs up so that they wouldn’t get bruised from someone tripping over them again. The excitement of everyone else seemed palpable, but Logan didn’t see why.

Another pair of adults, another adoption day, and Logan wanted to snap at them. Only a third of foster children were adopted a year, and only two thirds of them actually stayed with those parents. It was likely that they would spend at least another year before disappearing from the group home like the rest. After the third year in the system, chances of being adopted and not just placed started to drop drastically, and became non existent once the teenage years were reached.

Of course, when Logan had tried to tell the other children that, he had made Mary cry and Ms. Wilson had sent him to the corner for ‘bullying’ and ‘fear-mongering.’ When he told Ms. Wilson that her definitions were off, he had been told to stay there for the rest of the day. 

Not that Logan could see why that was a punishment. Getting away from the wrestling and shrieking and yelling of the other children seemed like a gift to him. He could curl up there with a book and almost disappear altogether. No possible adults to worry about, just him and the words on the page.

No pressure, no expectations, just him and the battered copy of  _ The Hobbit  _ that he had read so many times that Ms. Wilson had duct taped the binding back together in order to keep pages from falling out. 

She didn’t hate him, Logan knew that. She was simply as much of a product of the overworked, broken system as the rest of them were. She had too many children and too many problems to deal with to take the time to get to know them all.

Still, Logan traced one of the book’s few illustrations, it was a nice dream to have. That one day an adult would actually get to know him. All dreams died in the face of reality, Logan thought solemnly, but they were needed to push someone forward. At least that’s what his last tutor had told him.

It meant that Logan knew better than to look up from his book when the matrons tried to corral everyone for the visiting adults.

Several other foster children had overheard them talking, and it was common knowledge that the new adults were rather loud. Which meant that Logan could safely disappear in the corner without being looked at again. Logically, they would want someone who matched their temperment. Logan could understand that, a reserved child who ignored you wasn’t what most people were looking for.

“Logan,” Ms. Wilson called, and he hummed, turning to the next page. Gandalf had just introduced the dwarves to Bilbo after all. A heavy sigh reached his ears and Logan winced as the middle aged woman sank down next to him. “Could you at least try for this one?” she asked, and Logan leaned away from her.

“No,” he said shortly and tightened his grip on the book.

“Logan,” she said warningly.

“I don’t see why I should,” Logan muttered, “They all have expectations and I won’t live up to any of them. I’m too quiet, too unnerving, too  _ smart _ .”

Ms. Wilson sighed again, and scrubbed at her face. “You don’t have to talk to them, fine. Just, look up from your book? Once? Please?”

Logan glared down at the pages, words swimming together from the force of it and he nodded. Once and forceful. Ms. Wilson signed again, and reached to ruffle his hair, but Logan ducked away from the touch. 

“What am I going to do with you?” She murmured mostly to herself before her voice rose, “Emmet, stop pulling Danny's hair or no more play time for you! Steven! Steven so help me if you climb another step up that shelf-!”

Logan tracked her back as the matron hurried towards the chaos before returning to his book. Adults liked him for behaving, for being mature. Nothing more.

Despite having read it countless times, Logan still found himself engrossed by the adventures of Bilbo Baggins. Someone who used wit to survive and win rather than power. Someone like Logan. Buried in worn pages that had become almost soft with time and repeated use, which made the simple act of running his fingers along the page a comfort.

What happened today didn't matter, because today Logan was slaying the dragon Smaug and traveling with dwarves. 

Logan had made a promise to Ms. Wilson though, one that ended up being easy to keep as the squealing in the room grew louder. He glanced up and blinked. Several of the other children hung off the arms of a tall man, who cackled and tried to flex his arm despite having three children hanging off of it. More screams of excitement erupted when he failed and they all fell back into a tangled mess.

“I have been slain!” the man shouted and flapped a hand over his heart, “Ruthlessly betrayed and murdered by my own subjects! How could this have happened?!”

A lighter giggle drifted over and Logan looked over at the shorter man, who had a phone out and recording. “The evil king has fallen! Whoever shall take the throne now?”

One of the younger girls shrieked with giggles as Evil King rolled over and attacked her waist with his finger. “No one! There are none worthy to take  _ my _ throne!”

Logan almost turned back to his reading, had his finger on the page, when his eyes locked with the Evil King’s and Logan found himself burying his face in his book to avoid any other interaction. The last thing Logan wanted was for a couple with a man like  _ him _ to take interest in him. They would want him to do thing with them everyday, to be happy and giggly and play like the other kids racing around the group home.

Logan’s chest ached. His fingers tightened around his book, and he took a deep breath, smoothing down the pages he had wrinkled. Logan wanted that, but he didn’t at the same time. It was stupid. He had impossible standards, he knew that. To ask for an adult that would leave him alone some days and play with him others, and when  _ he _ wanted them to, and not the other way around. Still, he couldn’t help glancing up over the top of his book.

“Quick!” The Evil King shouted and pointed at his companion, “The uh, Evil Magical Dragon has arrived! A reward to the man or woman to slays it!”

The now dubbed Dragon’s eyes widened and he scrambled to put his phone back into the tote bag over his shoulder, “Roman wait-” The swarm of children that charged at his legs cut him off and the Dragon toppled over with a laugh. He growled playfully at the kids as they crawled over him.

Logan watched them before movement caught his eye and he startled as the man, Roman apparently, made his way over. Roman flopped down casually a distance away from him and Logan eyed the man warily. Roman crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back against the wall, grinning at Logan, “Well hello there, Super Why, what seems to be the book for today?”

Logan stared at him blankly. Roman grinned even wider, and inched closer. “No seriously kid, what are you reading?”

“Noneya,” Logan said dryly, and was certain that he imagined Roman’s eyes brightening at the word.

“Noneya?” Roman asked, and leaned forwards, “What’s it about?”   
  
“None of ya business,” Logan shot back smugly. Roman snorted and cackled, throwing Logan for a loop. Logan blinked at the man, and scotched away from him. Clearly, he was insane and Logan wanted nothing to do with him. Most adults hated when he talked back to them, or refused to give them what they wanted.

“None of ya business,” Roman repeated almost to himself, “God, it’s been forever since I’ve heard something like that. Brings back memories.” He chuckled again, “None of ya business. Ha!” He leaned forward, knees on his elbows and chin in his hand, and still grinning. It grated at Logan’s nerves that he wasn’t looking considering or thoughtful, just painfully amused.

“What about a name, kid?” Roman asked, and his eyes drifted to the other man in the room, now crouched down and talking softly with one of the younger girls. “Wait no, let me guess, it’s also Noneya.” Logan blinked and Roman winked. “How ‘bout I make you a deal? We could make it a game.”

“Don’t like games,” Logan said shortly and turned back to his book.

Roman snapped his fingers and pointed, “Lies! Everyone likes games! They’re like, the very essence of fun and entertainment, slaying the beast that be boredom! You have to like at least  _ one _ thing you enjoy.”

“Yeah,” Logan said, “It’s-”

“None of your business,” Roman chorused with him, and only looked more amused at the repetition. “Even-” Roman paused and looked Logan over, something sly entering his gaze, “-if it was a mystery?”

Logan’s head snapped up at the word, before he could stop himself. Roman’s eyes lit up with victory and Logan hunched in on himself. His eyes traced over the words on the page without really reading them as he muttered, words bitter on his tongue, “Mysteries are stupid.”

He watched Roman pout out of the corner of his eye. “Not even if you got something out of it?”

“And what would we be getting him?” Logan’s eyes flickered towards the amused voice as the other man wandered over to them. Roman’s eyes softened and he opened his arms up. The shorter man giggled and sat down between Roman’s legs. Roman wrapped his arms around the man’s waist and nuzzled at his neck. 

Ick, PDA.

“Whatever he wants!” Roman declared, “Because the mystery I have is truly the best there is! There are none like it in this entire world! Truly, I will leave all dazzled in my wake!”

Logan stared at the man for a long stretch of silence, Roman grinning at him as the man in his lap covered his mouth to smother giggles. “So if I wanted a hundred dollar telescope?” slipped from his mouth and Roman’s mouth dropped open.

The other man burst into laughter. “Paaatton,” Roman whined and the now named Patton covered his mouth, before laughing again. Roman’s pout grew. “You’re supposed to be on my side. Betrayal! The love of my life has  _ betrayed _ me! And for a child who refuses to give me his name no less!”

“It’s not my fault you make it easy,” Logan muttered, to Patton’s apparent delight with the way his grin grew even more. Such open, happy people. Logan didn’t get why they were spending their visit with him. Perhaps they thought he was a fun joke? Light entertainment before they found another child they would want to take home with them? Logically, he was too different from them for them to want him.

“He’s picking on meeee,” Roman conituned and Logan blinked at the amusement that shone through Roman’s eyes despite his words. “Patton, an eight year old is destroying my self-esteem, as the light of my life you must salvage what is left and swoop to my rescue.”

“Oh no!” Patton gasped dramatically, “My fair prince! Slain by a child!” Patton winked at Logan, “Over twenty years of experience bested by a mere eight! Truly the next generation is stunning! Fear not for I shall-”   
  
“‘M not eight,” Logan said under his breath and both of the adults froze. Patton clapped his hands in delight as Roman’s jaw dropped open.

“It speaks!” Roman said, and threw his hands into the air. “Information can be retrieved from the very jaws of death! After months of travel, our quest has paid off! The impossible can be achieved!” Roman hooked his chin over Patton’s shoulder, “And pray tell how old is my slayer then?”

Logan hesitated. There wasn’t any point in talking further to the men, no matter how expectantly they looked at him. He was an idle curiosity at best, and once they got bored they’d leave, taking however much of his heart he let them.

And Logan was tired of being disappointed. 

He shrugged with one shoulder and looked back down at his book. “Not eight,” he mumbled. He glanced up through the fringe of his bangs as Roman and Patton exchanged a look with each other. Good. Now he could know just how tired they were of him already, and he could keep his hopes from getting up. 

“Alas,” Roman said finally, “It seems we have not traveled far enough in this quest of ours, dear Patton. Still! We shall persevere through the wind and the rain! The snow! Raging fires and harsh words cannot keep up from our destination! Our armor may wear away and our hearts may be broken but still we’ll trudge on with leaden legs towards the goal we have set for ourselves, ever determined! Ever thoughtful-!”   
  
Logan stared at Roman with wide eyes, caught between disbelief that they’d actually go that far for him and disbelief that there was someone like that, living out in the world as an adult. Patton cut the other man off with a gentle pat to Roman’s thigh. 

“What Roman is trying to say,” Patton said, cheer in his voice and on his face, “is that we’d love to come back to visit you again, if that’s alright with you kiddo? It may take a bit of wrangling without a name, but by golly we’ve gotten through harder.”

Logan opened his mouth and snapped it shut without a word. His eyes flickered between the two of them in confusion. No one ever asked him if he wanted them to come back. They either left and never came back, or took him home after a visit or two, only to return him when he didn’t live up to their expectations. He didn’t get a say in his life, not like this.

“It’s not a bad thing if you don’t want us to return,” Patton said gently, and Logan found his eyes drifting towards Roman at those words. Something lurked in Roman’s eyes before they brightened and he grinned at Logan. “We just want to make sure,” Patton continued.

Logan shrugged. He picked at the frayed edges of his clothes and turned back to his book. “Do whatever you want,” he said sharply, “I don’t care.”

Patton opened his mouth again, only this time, Roman’s hand on his waist tightened. “Then expect our glorious return!” Roman said, “In a week? Three days? Tomorrow? What say you Evil Dragon who rules my kingdom?”   
  
Patton poked Roman’s waist and grinned, “This Evil Patt-gon says four, as his kids have a test coming up and it’s going to be a  _ write _ hard one this time!”

Logan blinked and his mouth dropped open, “Was- was that a  _ pun _ ?”   
  
Patton threw him a thumbs up, “I’m a  _ pun _ ny guy!”

“Please no,” Logan groaned and Patton laughed. 

“You’re stuck with us now!” Roman said, hauling Patton to his feet and the two of them looked down at Logan. A physical reminder that they were leaving that hit Logan in the gut. It didn’t matter if Patton made puns or not, because they weren’t likely to come back no matter what they said. “You won’t be get rid of us that easily kid! We stand strong against any trial!”

“Whatever,” Logan snapped and shoved his face into his book. Only he didn’t return to reading, instead watching Roman and Patton’s back as they headed towards the door and exchanged a few words with one of the matrons, Ms. Laurens if Logan was seeing her right. Better her than Ms. Trumpbull. Patton and Roman both shook her hand before disappearing out the door and Logan tried to ignore how much the sight ached.

They were just another pair of adults, the numbers weren’t in his favor, and it wasn’t like things would go differently this time. 

No matter how much he wanted it too.

* * *

“I thought,” Patton said, amusement leaking into his tone as he wrapped an arm around his husbands waist, “We had agreed to spread out, talk to as many kids as possible, get a feel for the kiddos.”

“Bah!” Roman waved a hand through the air before letting it settle around Patton’s shoulders, “Convention is for the weak! We follow our hearts wherever they may lead and live life to the fullest without a plan!” Patton’s shoulders shook under Roman’s arm and Roman’s heart soared at the sound and feeling. 

The evening wind ruffled his hair and Roman tipped his head back to feel it better. Patton stepped a little closer to him, flush against his side, an ever present warmth. “You think he’s the one,” his husband said quietly.

“I really do!” Roman said, and turned to press a kiss against Patton’s head. “There’s something about him! An- an- an air or a look in his eye! He just  _ is _ , Patton, I  _ know _ it.”

Patton hummed, bumping their hips together, “Then let’s hope that we’re the ones for him like he’s the one for us. It wouldn’t be fair to force ourselves on him if he doesn’t want it. It’s about him as much, if not more so, than us!”

Roman’s grin softened, “Have I mentioned that I love you today darling?”

Patton’s cheeks dusted red and the sight made Roman want to lean down and kiss each freckle on his husband’s cheeks. Later, Roman would shower Patton the love that he deserved, but for now he pressed a sloppy wet kiss to Patton’s cheek that had Patton giggling. 

Patton reach for his hand and threaded their fingers together, swinging their arms back and forth. “And I love you! For as long as I live, I’m gonna love you!”   
  
“And I will love you for long after!” Roman said, softly, squeezing Patton’s hand as their house came into view. A small one story building that still had streaks of white from where they had missed painting when the bright mesh of colors that they had covered the walls with were employed in a paint war on each other rather than the house. It was a place that had settled into Roman’s heart right next to his husband, and ramshackled though it may be, to Roman it was the castle of the highest order.

It was  _ home _ .

Home with his paintings on the walls, and Patton’s baking in the fridge, and their worn welcome mat that smiled brightly at they as they stepped over it. Roman pressed his hand to the small of Patton’s back as his husband unlocked the door and nudged it open with his hip. The creak was a welcoming chorus.

“I still have a few papers to grade,” Patton said, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Roman’s cheek, “We can make dinner together when I’m done?”

“Of course!” Roman agreed brightly. Dinner and then dishes, the frighteningly domestic activities that Roman had craved for his entire life. Their happy-ever-after. “Any cravings that I can bestow upon you tonight? Tell me your heart’s desires and I shall make it so!”   
  
Patton ran a hand down his arm, looking up at him with bright eyes, “Well what if I’ve already got the Prince my heart desires?”

Patton stepped back when Roman crowded him towards the wall with smoldering eyes, “Then that Prince would be glad to serve in any capacity he can. Say the word and I would traverse the world, perform any feat, anything for you, my love.”

Patton’s fingers trailed up his chest and wound around his neck. “I’m sure I could think of a few things,” Patton said softly, pulling Roman down to his level. Roman braced on arm above Patton’s head and hummed as Patton’s breath fanned against his face. “A  _ favor _ or two that you could give me.”

Roman licked his lips, “Why, I would do so gladly-”

He leaned down to connect their lips, and groaned as their fridge door slammed closed behind him. Roman buried his head on Patton’s shoulder and whined. “Make her go awaaaaaay.”

Patton laughed, the vibrations traveling along his chest and Roman’s face. Such a pleasant sound, Roman wanted to bottle it away forever, to play on repeat when Patton wasn’t there. “You love me Princey and you know it,” the deeper, feminine voice said before a crunch sounded.

“She’s eating our food again,” Roman told Patton’s shoulder. “She  _ always _ eats our food. Why? She makes more than us combined, she should be feeding  _ us _ .”

“Hi Ana Marie,” Patton said, his hands coming up to run through Roman’s hair. Which was unfair. It was Patton’s sister invading their space for the millionth time. Patton should not sound that amused. “How was work today?”

“As chill as I am little bro,” she said, and Roman figured she was eating one of their apples from the way her next bite crunched loudly. “Win some, lose some, though I’m pretty sure I’ve got this one in the bag. Which is good, she’s a nice girl.”

Patton tugged lightly at Roman’s hair to get him to move, the sensation sharp against his head. Roman whined again, but Patton tugged again until his husband moved. Roman huffed as Patton ducked under his arm, it wasn’t fair that Ana Marie got hugs when  _ he _ was the one married to Patton. The two siblings hugged, Ana Marie slinging an arm around her younger brother’s shoulder as she directed him towards the couch. The apple she had taken held lightly in one hand.

“Which speaking of,” Ana Marie grinned, “How were the kiddos? Any catch your eye? Should I expect multiple nieces and nephews? And entire hoard of children running around your shack?”

Roman glared at her, flopping down at Patton’s other side on the couch. “It’s not a  _ shack _ ! Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and in this case you are truly  _ blind _ ! There is beauty and grace and love and  _ art _ in every corner of this castle that you have very  _ rudely _ insulted with your words. We have poured our very  _ souls _ into the foundation of this building!” 

Patton giggled, tucking his feet up against the coffee table in front of them. He made sure to be careful of the papers stacked on it, leaning against Roman’s chest. “The kiddos were great! I wanted to spend time with Mary and Amelia and Kenneth and Johnson and-”

“All of them?” Ana Marie teased, flicking Patton's arm gently. “One at a time brother dear, or they'll break your shack.” Roman glared daggers at her from above Patton's head, earning himself a stuck out tongue and a wink from the woman.

“Roman did have his eye on one!” Patton continued blissfully before pausing, “Wait, no that makes them sound like pets. Roman bonded with a kiddo! His name is a mystery but he seems like a sweet kid! A real  _ nerd _ to the core!”

Roman sighed at the pun. Ana Marie blinked, “Nerd? Like….the candy?”

Patton beamed at them both, “We're going back next week to talk with him more. Really _ sink our teeth _ into the idea.”

“Pat, I love you, but never try to make a joke again.” Ana Marie buried her face in her hands, and Roman smirked, hooking his chin over Patton's head.

“I, for one,” Roman said imperiously, “Love all of Patton's jokes. They are truly the pinnacle of humor.”

“Awwww thanks Ro!”

Ana Marie narrowed her eyes at him. Her hands drifted away from her face, the expression in her eyes amused and teasing. “Only because you have no taste. This shack, Patton's jokes, the movies you watch.”

“Take it back! Disney is the pinnacle of human creation!”

Ana Marie hummed, “Nah, don't think I will.”

“At least I'm not a soulless lawyer,” Roman grumbled and Patton drew back to pat his arm comfortingly. Roman eyed his smug sister in law, weighing his options. Oh what the hell, he could never resist poking the dragon with a stick anyways. “Better magic and the knowledge that it won't make sense, then Science that tries to pretend it can pull of half the things Captain Kirk can-”

“Heathen! Sci-fi is amazing and you know it!” Ana Marie sat up, challenge along the line of her shoulders. “Star Trek and Star Wars changed a generation!”

“Guys maybe we should-” Roman steamrolled right over Patton.

“Disney  _ defined _ a generation!”

A throw pillow flew past Patton’s face and Roman sputtered as it hit him in the face. He growled. Ana Marie cackled. “ _ Fiend _ !” he shrieked and grabbed a pillow of his own to chuck at the woman’s face.

“My papers!” Patton wailed and dove at the coffee table to gather up the essays his students had written as Roman threw himself out of the way of the next pillow. A couple of papers fluttered before Patton snagged them from the air Roman grinned, sharp and challenging at Ana Marie, who stood up on the couch. Patton clutched his papers close as he fled towards the kitchen, “You monsters!”

“Love you too Pat!” they both chorused without looking away from each other.

“You’re going down Princey,” Ana Marie said, bouncing on the worn cushions. Roman pointed his own pillow at her like a sword. He could feel his heart pounding already, and mentally thanked Patton’s foresight in moving almost all the fragile objects out of this room. 

“In your dreams, Dragon Witch,” Roman declared and lunged.

(Patton finally wandered back in after the laughter and shrieks and thumps and yelling had died down. He smiled down at his sister and husband, curled up on the couch together.  _ Treasure Planet _ played softly in the background. Patton dragged out one of their larger comforters from the closet, wiggled his way in between the two of them, and felt Roman’s arm wind around his waist the same time that Ana Marie’s lips pressed a soft kiss to his head.

Content and warm between the two of them, Patton dragged the blanket up over all three of them. He closed his eyes. He dreamed of a warm home and a loving family. Roman’s arm around him tightened, and Patton grinned even wider as he fell asleep.)


	3. Not Every Card's A Trump Part 2

Logan hated the pit at the bottom of his stomach. He stabbed his fork down at the pasta in front of him with a little too much force, wincing at the heave clunk as metal meet ceramic. His eyes darted up, but Ms. Laurens was too busy with another child to notice. Ms. Wilson and Ms. Trumpbull weren’t even in the room. He heaved a sigh of relief and went back to tearing his pasta apart.

Just because it had been four days since Roman and Patton had first showed up, the date they said they’d return at, didn’t mean he should be nervous. The chances of them truly keeping their word decreased with every moment. Just like every other adult in his life. Logan hated that he was surprised at all.

“Hey,” Amelia said leaning over the table towards him, “You going to eat that?”

Logan sighed and shoved his plate in her direction. The older child eyed him, scrapping all his leftover pasta on to her own empty plate. “Why the long face, bookworm?” She asked. Logan stared at the table, hands clenching around his knees under it.

“I mean,” Amelia continued, “you have those guys coming to visit today don’t you?”   
  
“Does nothing stay private here?” Logan muttered under his breath, fingers tightening and loosening. He longed for a book and the ease of ignoring others that came with it.

“Nope.” The sound of the word popped. Another mouthful of pasta disappeared behind her lips. “I’m just trying get the scoop. Come on friend-o, it can’t be that ba-”

“We’re not friends,” Logan snapped, finally meeting her eyes. He gritted his teeth and tried to breath against the pressure on his chest. He refused to hope, not now, not with them. He didn’t want others talking about it, about poor widdle bookworm Logan, who couldn’t keep even a foster family for half a year.

“Not with that attitude we’re not,” Amelia said flatly.

“Good!” Logan’s chair scrapped across the floor, his hands snatching at his plate. He glanced around reflexively, and when Ms. Laurens frowned at him, he forced his anger down enough to storm towards where the dishes went.

“Fine, whatever,” Amelia muttered as he passed her again. Her eyes burned at his back, but Logan locked eyes with the door instead. “Stuck up bookworm, no one wants you.” The words stung and Logan’s shoulders hunched towards his ears. He didn’t hear anything else, his feet picking up speed. But he could guess what would come next.

The words that cut sharp, because children were cruel. 

He was never going to be adopted. 

Freak.

Snob.

Failure.

Unlovable.

Know it all.

Logan darted through the halls, ears peeled for the familiar heavier footsteps of the matrons. His chest loosened only marginally as he slid the door to the room he shared with others open. A copy of  _ Anne Frank _ sat on his bed, pages carefully marked with his last homework assignment. He wrapped his fingers around the novel, finally relaxing with his makeshift shield against his chest. It couldn’t really do anything, but Logan clutched at it all the same.

He traced the spine, wondering if the matrons would let him get through the whole book today even with the expected visit. Logan doubted they would. Any moment, one of them would come to tell him to get ready, to take a shower and make sure his hair was brushed and couldn’t he leave the book behind just this once?

Logan felt the pit yawning open at his feet, swallowing any sort of comfort that he had gleaned just moments before. Everything just another reminder that he wasn’t part of a family. That he never would be. He was a commodity, to be bought or sold as someone else wished. The cover of his book creaked from the force of his grip, and Logan tried to relax.

A light knock echoed against the door and Ms. Holland stuck her head through the doorway, grinning. “Thought I might find you here Logan,” she said, leaning against the doorway, “I hope you’ve already eaten, the Sanders are expected to show in the next hour or so. I’m going to be setting up the usual room, so you’ll have to shower and change and get ready on your own today. Think you can handle it?”   


Logan scowled at her and she waved, “Good, good! You’ve got less than an hour kid so get a move on!”   
  
The matron disappeared as quickly as she had intruded on his space. Logan hugged the copy of  _ Anne Frank _ to his chest even tighter, and wondered if he wanted the strange men to return. It would be easier if they didn’t. Another couple in a long line of “parents,” simply another disappointment that Logan could tuck into his hardened heart.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready to hope again.

He took a deep breath in the empty room. Whatever he wanted and thought didn’t matter, the matrons wanted him cleaned and ready to meet another adult, so he’d get ready. A shower would get him away from the stampede of feet he could hear approaching anyways.

Logan gathered up the clothes that he knew they would want him to wear and ducked his head, book and clothes clutched close to himself. He inched towards the door, and wove through the other boys as they entered. A should rammed into his, sending him stumbling on his way out. Logan’s ears burned in humiliation, his grip tightening on his things as sped up.

Four years and three months. Fourteen was the youngest he could get emancipation. He’d take back his own legal rights, graduated from school and never see anyone here ever again. Logan would be free. Still unloved, but  _ free _ .

He just had to hold on until then.

Which meant going through the motions of this visit. Which meant taking a shower and putting on his least ragged clothes before padding over to the room the matrons had set up for visits like these. A single positive about it was that until Roman and Patton decided to show, Logan would be alone. If they never showed then Logan might be able to finish his book in peace for once.

Logan scanned the small room, eyes skipping past the table set in the middle and the pile of toys on the floor to latch on to the bean bag settled in the corner. He had to climb onto it, sinking into the seat that was almost as large as he was. If he positioned himself just right, he could almost disappear from view. Not that he was allowed to.

_ Anne Frank _ wasn’t the most adventurous book, but Logan found himself devouring it all the same as the minutes ticked by. Even then, his eyes flickered up to glance at the door every time he reached the end of the page. He tried to take a deep breath and went back to reading, but still, the door had become a magnet. A void which lead to a possible future, and Logan hated it. He didn’t want to play family another time, only to find himself back here, waiting on yet another couple who claimed to love him.

Logan heard them before he saw them, voices carrying through the hallway for all that they were muffled. Roman and Patton seemed incapable of lowering their voices. Logan winced, and brought his book up to cover his face, trying to focus on the words in front of him instead of the adults. He didn’t want to know what they were talking about. He  _ didn’t _ .

“- Marie might be able to make the third night.”

“It’s fine, Series of Fortunate Events! The Dragon Witch can come whenever she’s able. It’s hardly like we’re selling out every night, there’ll be room.”

The footsteps stopped in front of the door, and Logan found himself staring at it without a thought. “One day! They’ll all see how amazing you are!” Patton said, “You’ll sell out every night and be on tv and and and-”   


“And I’ll buy you that new teaching manual! And all the supplies your students could ever want!” Roman said grandly.

Patton giggled, “Start with a new phone maybe? It’s your  _ call _ though.” Logan caught the soft groan that matched his wrinkled nose. He leaned forward at the silence that engulfed the room, and jumped as Patton started talking again, “Now remember dear, this is about  _ him _ , and learning and bonding with him! So gosh, you can’t just hug him like you would one of my students.”   
  
“Or ask too many prying question, or challenge him to a battle of wits, or goad him because I think his sass is hilarious, or blah blah blah blah. Your sister gave me the rundown while you finished up at work. He’s a person and so on so forth, but he’s also a child who wants a family, mi amor, don’t forget that either.”

Logan swallowed thickly and shoved his face back into his book as the door creaked open. He had never heard anyone talk about him like that, not once in all the families he had been a part of. His eyes darted over the top of the book to watch Patton and Roman enter the room, Patton had a bag in hand while Roman tossed a box at the table.

“Hello kiddo!” Patton greeted, waving with his free hand. “Don’t mind us! You just enjoy the book you’ve got there and talk to us when you want to.” He winked, “I can  _ read _ the room fairly well, or so I like to think.”

Logan closed his eyes and took a deep breath at the pun as Roman snickered. “A beautiful one, My Pun and Only.” Patton’s eyes lit up, the shorter man standing on his toes to place a soft peck on Roman’s check.

“Only the best for my Prince,” Patton said cheerfully. He set his bag down next to the box that Roman had thrown, the plastic crinkling. “We brought food if you get hungry and a puzzle if you’d like to join us though kiddo! We’ll just be here, doing things at your pace.”   
  
Logan glanced over at Roman, trying to gauge the other man’s reaction to this. Neither of them made any sense, especially after Roman simply winked at him. Why? What was the point in that action? Was there a joke he was missing? The only joke here was the idea that they thought he’d approach them at all. Or maybe he was the joke, getting a child’s hopes up only to see his face when it was crushed.

Patton’s humming filled the room as he dug through the bag that they had brought. Roman picked at the box, presumably the puzzle they had brought along, paper peeling away under his nails. A little too gleefully in Logan’s opinion, the man turned the open box over and watched the pieces scatter across the table and floor. One bounced as far as the bean bag that Logan was seated in, hitting the edge and landing a few inches away from him.

“A glorious scavenger hunt to add to our puzzle!” Roman said and Patton squealed.

“I bet I can get more than you! First one to find the corners picks lunch for tomorrow!” Logan gaped as Patton dove at the pieces already on the floor and Roman hesitated a second too long with wide eyes. 

“Cheater! Traitor! I’ve been slain by my own husband, a dragon that stabbed me in the back-”   


“Less talking and more finding,” Patton sing-songed, dumping a handful of pieces on the table. Logan watched the two of them scrambled around, his eyes dropping to the piece at his feet. Carefully, he eyed the two of them as he shut his book. His fingers brushed against the piece. A corner. Logan looked at the two of them again, laughing as Roman all but tackled Patton to scatter the pieces the other man had grabbed, and Logan smirked.

He slid out of the bean bag, leaving his book behind. Corner piece clutched in his hand, Logan made his way over to the table. He dug through the pile, it was statistically more likely that the corners hadn’t fallen, and his eyes brightened in victory as his fingers closed around the second corner. Gleeful himself, Logan moved to sorting out the edges and the middle pieces, biting at his lip in concentration. 

Movement to his left startled him, and Logan’s head shot up to meet Patton’s grin. The man, hair wild and clothes wrinkled, held out another handful of pieces. Logan’s breath caught and he froze in the middle of trying to fit to pieces together. Patton’s grin didn’t falter as he added the pieces to the pile. “You might need these,” the man said cheerfully. 

Logan glanced down at the table, picking at the piece in his hand. His enthusiasm for the puzzle waned, and Logan hated it. If he were alone, Logan bet he could have gotten the entire five hundred piece puzzle done in a matter of hours. Pattern recognition wasn’t that hard, especially if he had a picture to go with it. Patton and Roman had started to work on it as well, chattering between each other and even without their eyes on him, their presence sat on his chest.

The room felt suffocating. 

“-kid?” Roman’s voice cut through his thoughts and Logan’s head snapped up to meet his eyes. Logan ducked immediately, fingering his sleeves, hating that he couldn’t make out what the emotion in Roman’s eyes was. It was stupid. He was stupid. This was exactly what he was supposed to be avoiding. Bonding. Hope. Letting yet another family get close to his heart.

“I’m afraid I don’t listen to moron,” Logan said dryly, ready to shove back against their kindness already.

“And he lands another blow!” Roman said, and Logan blinked at how delighted the sentence sounded. “The- hmmmmm actually would you be a knight? A prince? Wizard? Books lean more towards magic users after all.”

Patton tapped his chin, eyes turning thoughtful, “Does it have to be exclusive? A magic knight, perhaps? Or a wizard with a sword? Oooooh a magic ninja knight with a unicorn stead!”   
  
“Yes!” Roman crowed, “Truly a worthy opponent to the Evil King and his Dragon! A Magic Ninja Knight who travels throughout all the land! Give him a library of rare scrolls too! Maybe he collects them? Kid, would you collect magic scrolls?”   
  
Logan blinked, eyes flickering between the two grinning men. A pair of stubborn idiots it seemed, because they couldn’t even register an insult thrown into their faces. Logan fiddled with his glasses, “A knight would be incapable of being a ninja, they were from completely different geographical areas with differing ideologies. A magic knight, depending on the setting, would be fairly plausible, though with oaths taken I highly doubt that he’d travel the land gathering books and scrolls of all thing, especially if his lord was an Evil king-”   
  
His mouth snapped shut. Logan dropped his eyes to the table, realizing that even while they were talking Patton at least was still fiddling with the puzzle. Roman’s elbow leaned on the table, his chin in his hands and eyes boring into Logan. “Kid?” Roman blinked, “You still with us? Please, do continue, tell me how this hypothetical knight would serve his Evil Lord and Master and king, who clearly isn’t me by any stretch of imagination.”   
  
Logan eyed him warily, “You don’t...mind listening to me spout nonsense?”

“It’s not nonsense kiddo! It’s really interesting!” Patton said. “Besides the whole point is to get to know you! We can’t do that if we do all the talking! We’re putting together a puzzle one piece at a time, or plating seeds-”

“In a garden we’ll never get to see,” Roman sung under his breath and Patton whacked his arm.

“-for a flower we want to see grow.” Patton snapped his fingers, “You know what? You found the most corners didn’t you? Which means you’ll get to pick lunch tomorrow! I can’t come because of work, but you and Roman can do some bonding!”   
  
Logan turned to Roman with wide eyes, only to be met with a dazzling grin, “Why I would love to feed the flower bud we’ve met! What says you, bud? We shall bring offerings of food and traverse yet another trial along our quest!”

Logan watched him through the fringe of his bangs and shrugged. He could say no. He  _ should _ say no. Because if he let them wander into his life, then he would have to prepare for the day they would wander right back out. Logan just wasn’t sure if he could say no. If the matrons would allow it.

If his own hope, quiet and small and easily ignored, that this would be the one, if he’d have a family this time, would let him.

“Yes!” Roman threw a fist in the air, Patton watching him with fond, indulgent eyes. “We shall have the best of times together! An incredible unbreakable bond shall be formed! One that nothing shall be able to break!”

“Everything is breakable,” Logan told him, clicking two puzzle pieces together, “With the right pressure and force even the components of an atom can be torn apart. What would make us any different?”

“Well,” Logan blinked as Patton’s voice broke in. Warm and fond enough that Logan risked a glance upwards. Only Patton wasn’t looking at him, eyes trained on Roman. “Coal becomes diamond under the right conditions and pressure. Nitrogen turned into liquid, bonds forming and strengthening.” Roman flushed and Patton turned to wink at Logan, “It’s all a matter of what sort of pressure you put it under, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” Logan muttered, “But everything that can be formed can also be taken apart.”

“Do you want it to?” 

Logan fumbled with the piece in his hand at Roman’s voice. “Of course not,” he snapped without thinking about it, and paled when both men beamed at him.

“Then there’s your answer bud,” Roman said, “It’s all gonna be fine! Grasp the future you want! Fight for it with both hands and your teeth if you have to! Never give up!”

“It’s not that simple,” Logan snapped, “You may fill your head with deluded nonsense but some of us live in a different world.”   


“You’re right,” Patton agreed. “It isn’t that simple. The world is a hard, messy, complex place. Doesn’t that make holding on to what you want that much more poignant? Makes the simple things worth all that much more?” Patton looked like he wanted to reach out and pat Logan’s shoulder but the man refrained. “Now, tell us what you want for lunch tomorrow so we can make it for you tonight.”

Logan tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. He wanted to ask if Patton meant him, even in the smallest fraction of that sentence. If he was something worth holding onto, because no one else seemed to think that. Fear weighed down his tongue, and he longed for his book instead.

“Macaroni and cheese would be fine,” he said softly instead, “With some cookies too?”   
  
Patton squealed, clapping his hands together. “Cookies! Yes of course! It will be  _ sweet _ to bake some after so long!”   
  
Roman chuckled, reaching out to prod at Patton’s side, “They do add to my favorite pillow.”

“Oh hush you,” Patton replied, swatting at Roman’s finger, “I burn plenty of calories chasing around all my students.”   
  
“Oh I never said I didn’t like it,” Roman said, leaning in towards Patton. Logan wrinkled his nose and looked away as Patton leaned in as well.

“Students?” He interrupted after a moment, looking back to make sure they had truly separated. More PDA, more ick. “You’re a teacher?”   


“Yup! One of the local high schools is practically my second home!” Patton said, “They’re all good kids, even if I have to nag them about their homework occasionally. Summer school students do tend to struggle a bit more than my average.”   


Logan nodded, mostly to himself, and turned to Roman, “So do you work at the local store for morons? Or do you actually accomplish something other than making up random stories?”   
  
Roman grinned, sudden and brilliant. “Actually, I’m not going to tell you! You like mysteries right? Right! You tell me what I do and I’ll…..get you the complete collection for Sherlock Holmes.”

“You’re on,” Logan agreed, before clamping his mouth shut. Idiot, stupid, he shouldn’t be bonding with them! Encouraging them to come back was just opening himself up for disappointment.

Roman’s grin grew in triumph. Logan was tempted to snap at him, to try and shove the imbecile even farther away than he already was. They didn’t even know his  _ name _ and still, they pranced around, as happy as clams. They kept making plans to come back, talking about them with him. He wanted to scream. He wanted them to never come back, to beg why they would set him up for heartbreak like this.

He never wanted them to stop.

And that was his biggest issue Logan thought as a matron, Ms. Wilson this time, knocked on the door to let Patton and Roman they needed to be going soon. Logan wanted to reach out to them. He wanted them to listen as he talked about the new facts he learned about butterflies or computers or plants. He wanted them to sit and read with him. He wanted them to get to know him, to never give up on him.

It was what he always wanted. Parents.

“I’ll see you the next time my schedule clears up kiddo,” Patton said, sweeping puzzle pieces into the box. “And I’ll make sure Roman doesn’t forget the cookies for tomorrow.”   
  
“Only if there are any left,” Roman teased and Patton laughed.

They were going to turn around and walk out that door. Any moment now. Logan had no guarantee that they’d be back. No way of knowing if they’d keep their word and he really would see Roman for lunch. His chair screeched as the force of his movement threw it backwards.

Roman startled at the fingers tangling into the back of his shirt, and Logan tried to forget the stunned way Ms. Wilson stared at him. Later, he would deal with that later. He needed to say this now, before he lost his nerve. Before they truly did let him shove them away and he was stuck waiting for his next birthday and one year close to leaving all by himself.

“My name,” he breathed, trying not to let the way Roman and Patton’s eyes widened scare him. “My name is Logan.”   
Patton lit up, and for a moment, Logan was tempted to turn around and ask if someone had started Christmas early for him. Roman’s eyes softened, and the man kneeled down to his height. He held a hand out, and just as softly said, “Hello Logan, my name is Roman. It’s my absolute pleasure to meet you.”   
  
Logan took his hand, and quietly allowed himself to hope.


	4. Not Every Card's a Trump Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry about the lack of update last week! I was out of town :p As further warning I will be out next week as well, so I'll be seeing about getting an extra chapter out after that in apology!
> 
> But without further ado: A N G S T

Roman leaned back against the bench just outside of the group home, holding the ice cream in his hand gently. Patton had to stay at the school late to deal with a troublesome student which left Roman to visit Logan alone that day. Every other day, they tried to meet the kid, or at least Roman did. Patton was a little busier, and his schedule less flexible, but still. That didn't mean they weren't trying.

The look on Logan's face every time they stepped through the door made it worth it every time. Without fail.

Roman sort of understood why they couldn't just take Logan home, especially with how prickly the kid could get. Logan needed reassurance, needed time to settle before a change. They needed to make sure that he fit and blah blah blah blah. Roman wished that people weren't so stupid about things like this. Even if they were able to take Logan home right then, there was paperwork and the payments and everything that made Roman want to punch a wall.

"And that's how the body digests something like this," Logan murmured, staring at his own ice cream cone, "It's fascinating how the different sugars are broken down the same way and yet do different things for the body. Such simple things, and yet the body is so complex."

"And yet," Roman said with a grin, "It'll still throw a fit at something as simple as stubbing a toe. Or will forget the thing you went to pick up when you switch rooms. I'd like an upgrade thank you very much."

"You can't just upgrade your body," Logan glowered at him.

"Watch me," Roman said. Mostly just to see the affront on the kids face. "You think I can't do it bud?"

"I know so," Logan snapped, "If you're so imbecilic to think that you can upgrade something that took thousands, if not millions of years to evolve, then there's less matter between your ears than I thought."

Roman whistled, "Bringing out the big words today I see." he grinned. "So what about prosthetics? Or tattoos?"

"Patches to a system that's falling apart, and art," Logan replied promptly.

"And if someone would take offence to the idea that they need to be 'patched'?" Roman asked, bringing his dripping ice cream up to lick at smugly. "People aren't broken after all, just different."

“Different like you?” Logan asked, and Roman tried to gauge how sarcastic the phrase was this time.

“Sure,” he said easily. The kid blinked adorably and Roman wanted to ruffle his hair. He had seen the way Logan ducked away from the matron’s hands though, and he didn’t want to intrude if the kid wanted space. Foster kids got so little respect already, he didn’t want to add to it. Soon though, soon he’d ask. “Everyone’s a little different, Stephen Kid, intelligence, sexuality, hobbies, personalities, bodies, seven billion people in the world and not one of them the same!”

Roman bit down on his ice cream, taking the time to keep it from dripping down onto his hand. Logan stared at him, and Roman grinned. "I think it's the coolest thing in the world," he said, "That everyone has their own story and adventures and evil kings to slay for their happy ever after. So yeah, I'm different, Patton's different, even a little shit like you is different."  
  
He brought his ice cream forwards and booped it on Logan's nose, cackling as the kid's eyes crossed to follow it. Logan wrinkled his now chocolate covered nose and glared at him. "If being different means acting like you, I'm not sure I want to."  
  
"Aww, I'm hurt bud, really, truly, who wouldn't want to be like me?" Roman said. His chest felt warm with amusement and fondness. Logan really was a good kid and never boring. "Besides, Patton's different too. I'm not the only one. Seven billion Logan. Seven billion! It's never ending! Just an endless stream of change and learning!"  
  
Logan looked down at his melting ice cream, and Roman fought the urge to bump their shoulders. Respect, Sanders, he could respect Logan's space. "I guess," Logan muttered, before pausing, "So then like, every child here?"  
  
"Different," Roman said confidently, "Maybe in small ways, maybe bigger. They all talk and walk differently. Each one has different experiences."  
  
"So then," Logan voice was small enough that Roman straightened from his scrunched lean. "What sort of differences were you looking for?"  
  
Roman could read that tone as easy as if he were breathing  
  
_What were you looking for in me?_  
  
_Why me?_  
  
He took a deep breath and bent over to look Logan in the eye. "Patton and I were looking for a child to love. There were no 'requirements,' no specific quality that we wanted. We wanted to help someone Logan, to give someone a home, parents, we want a family. You-" Roman tapped his fingers on his leg.

“I was entertaining,” Logan said, and the simple way he said it broke Roman’s heart. Logan blinked as he shook his head, and the kid took a gamely stab in the dark again. “I was mature?” Another shake of Roman’s head. “Adorable then.”

Roman chuckled and shook his head one more time. His hands twitched, wanting to show how much he cared, a hand on the shoulder, fingers through Logan’s hair, something, anything, but he refrained. The hair on his arm raised, his eyes flickering up to see one of the matrons he hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to yet staring down at them.

Time was up, and Roman hated it. He was so sick of just _visiting_.

“Not quite, bud,” Roman said softly, looking back down at Logan, “Because you were different.”

“And you love different,” Logan said, his face solemn as he nodded. Roman let out a quiet, short breathy laugh at the way Logan acted like he had solved the world’s greatest mystery. He stood, eyes on the matron again, rolling the thought that she made him nervous around in his head.

“No, I love _you_ ,” Roman corrected idly, “Now come on, that matron of yours is going to burn my face off if she stares at us any harder. And since my face is a gift to this world, we should want to keep it where it is, meaning our time must be up.”

Silence meet his ears like a stone and Roman knew that he had given Logan at least two different openings to take. The kid should have been mocking him at that moment, for his arrogance or the fact that faces couldn’t melt or whatever at the very least. Roman turned to get a better look at Logan, only for Logan to mutter, “We should go.”

Fuck, Logan never wanted to end the visits early. Roman scrambled to back-track his conversation with him to figure out what had set the kid off as they trudged towards the group home.

“Ah,” the broader set woman in the doorway said, “You must be the Mr. Sanders everyone's been whispering about. I hope you found your time with Logan…. pleasant?”

Roman hated her already. She held her hand out to him and he shook it with a plastic smile. “Yes! That would be me! And you would be….?” He trailed off meaningfully, Logan shifting at his side.

The matron glanced down, drawn by the movement. She jerked her head, and Logan ducked his head. He practically raced inside, tripping over his feet in his haste. The stone in Roman's throat dropped to his stomach, at least until the matron opened her mouth again.

“Ms. Trumpbull, it is a pleasure to meet you,” the woman practically simpered, and the worst part of his panic relaxed. “I do hope that you come to visit young Logan again! Perhaps you're thinking of….?”

It was her turn to trail off meaningfully. God, she thought of the kids as things to sell, and it made his blood boil. It could have been worse though, so much worse, and even that thought made Roman swallow down bile. His fake grin grew, “Oh, I'd love to! We have to talk it over first, and really we want to make sure that Logan wants to be a part of the household first as well.”

Roman could pinpoint the moment the matron’s own smile grew a little forced. “Is that so? Well, don't you worry! We'll make sure he's on his best behavior until then.”

She winked, and Roman forced an awkward laugh. “Well, I really must be going,” he said. His foot stepped back without a thought. Without any further pleasantries, Roman spun on his heels and hurried off, fighting down the urge to scratch at his skin. God, he didn't think they could get Logan out of there soon enough.

He bit down on his lip, reminded of Logan's out of character rush to be done. Or maybe they wouldn't be the ones getting Logan out. Fuck, Roman picked up his pace, and hoped he hadn't ruined everything.

* * *

_So as you can see, the metaphor that Mary Shelley was trying to convey was-_

Patton sighed as the words swam together, and he brought his fingers up under his glasses to scrub at his eyes. Lisa was a wonderful girl, but she just couldn’t quite grasp an impersonal essay. He wondered if scheduling another session with a tutor for her would help, because at this rate she wouldn’t pass even his summer course.

Giggling caught his attention. Patton’s eyes drifted towards the pair of children playing with toys in the corner, and then to the boy sitting next to him. Logan turned a page in the book he was reading. Peaceful, Patton had to admit. He hoped the fact that Logan could just enjoy his presence was a good sign, but couldn’t help the way his fingers traced Lisa’s essay nervously.

He had to fight the urge to call his mothers every night and ask if they were doing this right. If a good parent did this or did that, if they should push more or back off more or try to talk to Logan more. Roman had been confident until his last visit with Logan, and not the fake confidence his husband could wear sometimes. Patton smiled softly to himself.

Roman was a rock, someone to lean on when Patton needed support.

“Were they that bad?” Logan asked, and Patton blinked, started out of his thoughts. Logan leaned over to get a better look at the papers, his own book discarded on his lap. Whoops, Patton really must have zoned out to not have noticed Logan staring at him. “Their writing?” Logan tried again, eyes serious and steady. “Was that why you were staring at it so hard?”

Patton giggled, tilting his papers so Logan could have a better view. He wasn’t one to give up a learning opportunity. Neither of them were. “Not bad,” Patton corrected gently. “Being wrong isn’t a bad thing. It means that as a teacher I have to try harder to figure out why they’re not understanding the material. They’re still learning! It’s what school is for after all.”

“That’s not what my last teacher said,” Logan said, doubt leaking into his voice as he looked back up at Patton. “He said that if I was getting it wrong then I wasn’t trying hard enough and I was disrespecting him.”

“Ah,” Patton said. He struggled to keep his voice from falling flat and giving Logan the wrong idea. He took a deep breath and tried to picture Logan as one of his students at the very beginning of the year. It was never his fault that the adults that taught him had different ideas than Patton. “Well, I would respectfully disagree with him. It’s my job as a teacher to help my students learn and understand my curriculum. If they don’t it means that I’m not doing my job.”

“Is-” Patton hummed encouragingly when Logan cut himself off. He watched the boy fiddle with his book. “Is that why you’re not around as often? Because you need to help them?”

"Yeah, of course, kiddo! It's....well, my life's work. Teaching kids make me happy. But that doesn't mean it's the only thing that makes me happy. Golly, I get happy every time I get ice cream! I know I'm not around often as I'd like, but there's ways around that," Patton smiled, and waited for Logan to look at him, "You make me happy too. And no matter how happy my dream career makes me, I will always put you first Logan, it’s what my mom told me! I love all of my kids, but as my son? You win by a long shot."

Logan looked fragile, his eyes wavering sightly as he stared at Patton. Oops, he had probably said a little too much for how close they were at the moment. Not that he didn’t think of Logan as his son! He absolutely was! Patton just wasn’t sure Logan was ready to cross that line. Logan kept a careful distance for his own safety and Patton could respect that.

He flipped through the papers in his hands, and broke the tense silence with some light teasing. “I mean, working is how we make living here _work_ -” Patton grinned at Logan’s groan, and forged onward, “-we still have to eat after all. Pay for electricity, the house, so on, so forth. Buy a certain smart boy some books maybe. Though just between you and me,” He winked. “Roman’s happier when he doesn’t have to think about things like that.”

Patton paused, a thought crossing his mind. “Speaking of Ro, still no luck with his bet?”  
  
Logan crossed his arms and scowled, “He’s cheating.”

Patton raised an eyebrow, fighting to keep his face serious. His lips twitched and his eyes danced with amusement. “Oh really? And how’s he doing that?”  
  
“I dunno, but he is! Stop-! No, don’t laugh at me!” Patton brought the essays up to cover his face, wheezing as he tried to hold back laughter as Logan pouted.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! It’s just that,” Patton wiped at a tear in his eye, “Logan, do you really think that _Roman_ , light of my life he may be, could pull off subtle cheating? When he couldn’t keep the fact that he was planning on proposing to me quiet for even a week?”

Logan flushed, cheeks dusting a light pink. He looked away sharply and Patton gave himself a _Patton_ the back (Ha!) for dispelling the tension. Logan grumbled under his breath, an adorable anger that deflated as soon as he looked back at Patton. “Do you think,” Logan chewed on his bottom lip and Patton bit back a squeal. “Do you think I could get a hint? Would that be-” Logan tripped over his last words, Patton’s eyes softening at the nervousness.

_Would I be stupid if I need help?_

“I mean, I did say helping people learn was my job,” Patton said, in the same coaxing voice he’d use for an anxious student. He tapped his chin, “Ok I think I’ve got a good one! Roman is just as loud at work as he is usually, if not louder.”

“That doesn’t help at all!” Logan protested.

Patton spread his hands wide, before quickly reaching to keep his student's essays in his lap. “You did ask for a hint kiddo, besides, you two seem like you’re having fun with it! You- are having fun right? Golly, I didn’t even think about that, gosh I can tell Roman to call it off if you want-”

“No!” Patton’s papers scattered, the force of Logan’s protest making him jump, and Patton bit back a curse. He scrambled to gather them back up before they were damaged in the chaos of the other kids, and blinked as Logan hurried to follow his example. “I’m sorry,” Logan whispered, his face pale and Patton shook his head, glasses slipping down his nose from the force of it.

“Whoops,” Patton pushed them back up his nose and took the essays that Logan held out to him. “It’s fine Logan! Accidents happen, and look!” He held the stack up proudly, “Not one of them damaged!”  
  
Logan ducked his head. Patton bit back a sigh, and very lightly tapped Logan on the head with the stack of papers. “Hey now,” he said seriously as Logan’s head whipped up in surprise, “Turn that frown upside down, Farmer Brown! I’m the one who should be apologizing anyways, I should have waited for you to respond before practically running you over with my words.”

Logan shrugged, fiddling with his sleeves, and Patton worried his bottom lip. “Hey how bout I make it up to you? It might not _stack_ up all that well next to some of the things Roman does, but this old Pop's got a few good ideas in this ol’ brain of his!” He paused, “It's been a while since it's been all three of us hasn't it? Gosh a whole what, week and a half? Two? How ‘bout that? I can get a sub for the day and it can just be us!”

“Oh,” Logan said softly, Patton almost thought it was reverently. “Would- would you really-?”

Patton sat back down, patting the spot next to him. “For you kiddo, I'd buy the stars,” he said, only half-jokingly.

Logan took in a sharp breath, reaching down to clutch his book tight. Carefully, Logan sat down next to him, and then Patton held his own breath, trying not to freeze or lock up as Logan leaned over against him. A tiny weight against his side, not quite fully there, Logan no doubt waiting for Patton to pull away, to say something.

Instead, Patton just as carefully draped an arm over Logan's shoulders and asked, “So have you read Frankenstein before?”

“Not yet,” Logan murmured, relaxing into Patton’s side, “‘s it good?”

“I certainly think so! Not much for a casual read though, but it brings a lot of interesting discussion to the classroom,” Patton said, marking another point off of Lisa’s essay. He paused and added a note about something he liked as well, making sure to underline it and draw a smiley face next to it. “I’m not sure if it’s above your reading level or not, but I think you might enjoy it. It explores themes of humanity and intelligence, just like you do!”

“Mr. Sanders?” Patton’s skin crawled at the sudden silence that engulfed the room. One of the more heavy set matrons stepped into the doorway, and Patton swallowed. It was entirely possible that this matron simply had earned the children’s respect, Patton had known teachers like that after all. Ones who preferred their students quiet and obedient more than anything else. Not all of them bad.

But not all of them good either.

“That would be me!” Patton said, giving Logan’s shoulders a squeeze before letting go to stand up. He knew that he imagined it, but for a split second, Patton could have sworn that Logan’s hands brushed against his shirt. As if asking him to stay. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before?”

He stuck his hand out and there was a long moment that she stared down at him. Patton kept his smile steady, years of long practise meaning it didn’t waver.

“Trumpbull,” the matron replied finally, taking his hand, and her face twisting into a smile that looked almost painful. Patton winced as she gripped his hand just a shade too tight. “I see that young Logan’s been drawing a lot of attention recently.”

“He is an exceptional lad,” Patton said, something staying his hand. Literally, in that something about Ms. Trumpbull eyes kept him from dropping a hand defensively on Logan’s head.

“Well,” Ms. Trumpbull said, “I do hope he’s been on his best behavior? He hasn’t given you any trouble? Logan’s been known to, well, scare off possible parents, for lack of a better phrasing.”

“Oh absolutely! Wait I mean, no he hasn’t, wait- Dang it, sorry.” Patton took a deep breath, “Logan’s been nothing but a delight. Really, I enjoy the time that we get to spend together.” His smile tightened, turned the slightest bit sharp, “I’m not sure why someone wouldn’t want to spend time with such a bright boy, but then again, some people just can’t see a good thing even when it’s right under their nose.”

Logan sucked in a sharp breath behind him. Oops. Patton hadn’t meant to let that slip.

“I see,” Ms. Trumpbull said. Patton winced, but didn’t take the words back. He stared her down for a long moment before she said, “Just as I see that your students must be handfuls if you approach them with that sort of attitude when it comes to troublemakers.”

“Oh?” Patton said, his head tilted politely. “Do you struggle with a rash of them then? Because I don’t have all that many in my classes. They’re all sunshine and rainbows. I respect that they’re willing to put in the effort after all.”

“Oh, and I’m sure effort isn’t all they need.”

Patton felt his teeth grind under his smile. Polite insults were one of the things he hated the most about having to keep a professional air and attitude. Telling a group home matron to her face that he doesn’t agree with her way of dealing with children wouldn’t end well. Not with his boss and not with the people who held Logan’s papers. If he pushed them too far, they could simply ask them to not return.

Patton wasn’t sure he could take that. Could stand having Logan ripped away from them.

“Maybe for you,” Logan said dryly, and Patton’s eyes snapped over to Logan. “Patton makes things easier to understand. What do you do?”

Ms. Trumpbull’s face twitched and Patton cut in before she could open her mouth to speak. “That’s very kind of you Logan,” Patton beamed at the kid, who smiled shyly back. No wonder Roman was raring to take Logan home already. Patience. A little bit longer and they’d ask. “But it’s important to remember to respect the people looking after you as well.”

“I think,” Ms. Trumpbull said through grit teeth, “That it’s about time you head home Mr. Sanders.”

Patton nodded, and turned to the slightly pale Logan. Logan ducked his head and Patton crouched down to his level, something in Patton’s gut telling him to stick with Logan as long as possible. “Would you walk me out, kiddo?”

Logan nodded, once and sharply before hurrying towards the door. “Have a nice night, Ms. Trumpbull,” Patton called out over his shoulder, longer catching up with Logan easily. Logan’s hand brushed against his fingers, not grasping, but still, and Patton made sure to wave as he left.

Soon, he told himself, _soon_.

* * *

Trumpbull’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Logan bit back a hiss as the matron steered him through the hallways. His hands were shaking Logan noted distantly, as he stumbled trying to keep up with her relentless pace. The eyes of the other children bored into his back, and Logan tried not to be reminded of the real reason none of the other kids would spend time with him.

They wouldn’t want to pick up his bad influence.

The stairs to the basement yawned in front of them and Logan didn’t bother to bite his tongue. It was too late for that already. “Recent articles state that negative reinforcement actually increases the likelihood of problem children. Then again I know that you’re not all that big on recent-”  
  
Trumpbull’s hand tightened on his shoulder and her voice dropped into a low whisper, “Would you prefer the closet tonight?”  
  
Logan snapped his mouth shut fast enough that he caught his tongue and the taste of copper bloomed in his mouth. “No, ma’am,” he said quietly. She nodded, satisfied at his obedience.

With each step down into the basement, the pressure on Logan’s chest grew, the white noise of the rest of the group home fading behind them. Even the ever creaking wood grew silent, leaving only the pounding of his own heartbeat. The lower temperature brushed against Logan’s temple, the hair on his arms raising as he swore he heard something skitter in the walls around them.

Trumpbull’s hand finally left his shoulder as she shoved him towards the desks that sat in the low light. He stumbled towards them, hating the relief he felt that it was going to be lines today, hating that he had to feel relief at all.

The chair creaked dangerously as he sat carefully down in it, laying his palms flat on the cool metal to keep them steady and still. Logan couldn’t help watching Trumpbull as she made her way across the stone floor. Even though he knew that he was only doing lines, a fraction of the pressure on his chest eased as she made her way past the doors to the closet to dig through the desk drawer next to it.

Despite bracing himself, Logan still jumped at the sharp crack that echoed through the room, Trumpbull studying the ruler that she had slammed against the desk. “Do you know what you've done this time?” She asked. Her footsteps echoed in the space, and even with her approaching Logan didn't hold back.

“I opened my mouth? And you hate kids so everything I do is wrong-”

He flinched as the ruler slammed down, mere inches from his fingers. His face paled, eyes wide as Trumpbull leaned down into his space. “Perhaps you want to try that again, _brat_. I've been amazingly lenient lately haven't I?”

Logan took a shuddering breath, eyes locked into the ruler. “I'm afraid I don't know this time, ma’am,” he whispered. The ruler tapped his chin, raising his head to meet Trumpbull’s eyes. She raised an eyebrow, the ruler keeping Logan from ducking his head. The words that he knew she was expecting tasted bitter in his mouth, “Would you please ma’am, teach me how to be a better child?”

The ruler finally dropped, Logan’s shoulders slumping with his head. “It would be my pleasure young Logan,” Trumpbull said warmly. She tucked the ruler under her arm, and bent down, metal rattling as she pulled the handcuffs attached to each desk open. The metal tightened around his wrists, just enough to pinch the delicate skin. “Today, you made Mr. Sanders lie.”

“What?” Logan asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“About you,” Trumpbull lectured, “Nothing but a delight? You want me to believe that you haven’t disrespected them every chance that you’ve gotten?”  
  
“He didn’t lie!” Logan protested, “Roman likes-”

The ruler descended, only this time it really did land on his hands, and Logan bit down on a yelp. He blinked back tears. The chains rattled as he tried to yank his hands back, an instinct he could never break himself of. One that earned him another rap along his forearms.

“Really?” Trumpbull raised an eyebrow, “You think there’s anyone who would like being called an idiot? Likes feeling shown up by a know it all child? Then why would Mr. Sanders have been tense? His smile so fixed? He was lying because he's a nice, responsible man, and we're lucky I could see what he really meant so that we can correct your behavior."

Logan shook his head, his voice weak, “No he- they-”

“Love you?” Trumpbull sighed, “Please Logan be honest, with yourself and with me. Who could ever love you?” Logan trembled and her fingers, meaty and thick, traced his jawline, “I try, I really do, but there’s trouble written into your bones. When you stop making me discipline you, maybe then, but we both know that day’s not going to come.”

Logan’s eyes burned, blinking rapidly in the hopes of keep his tears from falling. Trumpbull dropped a stack of papers and a pen in front of him, and Logan reached out with an aching hand to grip the pen.

“Three hundred lines,” Trumpbull said sternly, “‘I will not make Mr. Sanders lie.’”  
  
Logan heasited for a split second, though even that was too long for the matron. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as the ruler hit his arm again. He started, staring down as line after line appeared under his hand. The handcuffs bit into his wrist every time he moved, a pain that couldn’t match the way the words sunk into his head.

_I will not make Mr. Sanders lie_

_I will not make Mr. Sanders lie_

_I will not make Mr. Sanders lie_

Logan couldn’t breath, the pen dropping to the floor as he finally finished, wrists raw and holding back tears. He sat, still and quiet as Trumpbull gathered up the papers and unlocked his wrists. He moved mechanically, stiff from his hours in the desk, shuffling along behind Trumpbull back up the stairs and to his room.

Everything fell silent as Trumpbull opened the door and ushered him inside. For once, their eyes didn’t feel like weights on his shoulders, a reminder of how alone he would always be. Instead, he collapsed onto his bed, and curled up as small as he could make himself, hands clutched to his chest.

Covers pulled over his head in the closest thing to privacy he would get, Logan sobbed silently. “He- he loves me,” he whispered to himself, “He does, he _does_ , he loves me.” He could hear the doubt in his own voice and pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to muffle his sobbing. “He does, he does, he does, _he does_ -”


	5. Not Every Card's A Trump Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We ended up not going out of town and I know that I said no updates this Friday but HA PSYCHE It's SATURDAY
> 
> Anyways plz don't murder me or you won't get the update next week either
> 
> Huge thanks to Wisepuma23 and Milomeepit for making sure you never see my myriad of typos!

Logan breathed deeply, running a hand over the spine of his book. Over and over again, the simple, repetitive movement relaxing despite the noise in the room. He hadn’t opened it yet, the tension gripping his heart killing any of his usual enjoyment. Curled up in the corner, it felt almost like that first day when he had first meet Roman and Patton.

Not that it helped the fear and guilt that took root in his brain and refused to leave. Logan closed his eyes, pressed down on the cover of his book until his fingers tingled. _The Ugly Duckling._ Appropriate if not entirely accurate. He wasn’t going to grow up and turn out to be a swan. He only had his intelligence going for him.

Something that most people didn’t want him to flaunt.

Nobody liked to be shown up by a child after all.

He thought of Roman, the man’s smile wide and laughter echoing, and Logan’s shoulders hiked an inch closer to his ears. He had been a fool. Of course no one wanted to be corrected and snapped at like that. Whatever Roman’s game was, it wasn’t _love_ , no matter what he claimed.

Everyone was different only in how they wanted to care for themselves.

Logan had learned that already.

Which left Patton, who hadn’t even bothered to say the words. Perhaps as a teacher he knew better than to disrespect Logan’s intelligence? Patton cared, but only in the way that teachers always did. When it really came down to it, Patton would do what benefited his job and not Logan. Taking a day off didn’t fit that, but it wouldn’t be the first time an adult tried to placate him through small but meaningless gestures.

It didn’t matter.

Except-

Except it _did._

Logan pulled his legs up and laid his forehead against the cover of his book. A small dark space scared him yet at the same time it brought comfort. Being enclosed meant he had done something wrong, and Logan knew exactly what it was this time. Despite the fact he had tried not to do it again. He had reminded himself over and over again.

Not to trust, not to hope.

Not to _love_ , when they would never love him back.

Logan tried to steady his breathing, pressing his hands to his ears to block out the other children. He was so _stupid_. An immature child who never learned his lesson. The warmth Patton gave him meant nothing. The proud smiles of Roman meant nothing. They were going to get bored, or worse, angry, and leave like everyone else. Words and promises meant nothing.

Because _Logan_ meant nothing.

But that hadn’t stopped him from falling in love with them anyways.

Logan bit back a sob. He wanted them to take him home. He wanted to eat more of Patton’s cookies and listen to Roman’s stories and- and- and-

His breath shuddered, and he tried to calm down. He needed to be ready for when Patton and Roman showed up for the day. If they showed up for the day. Logan gripped his book tighter as he reminded himself of that. It wasn’t a guarantee. The only thing that was guaranteed was that they were going to leave him one day.

He had to remember that.

Logan pried himself out of his ball and glanced at the door. No one yet. Good. He didn't want them to see him while he was weak. He had to make them want him, which meant being his best whenever they stopped by. Maybe if he started to curb his tongue, they'd want to actually adopt him. If he was good for once, maybe they'd take him home instead of just visiting.

Ms. Holland poked her head into the room, and scanned the room, her eyes landing on him. Logan stiffened. She winked at him, and he deduced that she was warning him that Patton and Roman had arrived. Thoughtful of her. He smiled weakly at her and she beamed back at him.

He tried to take a deep breath again, closing his eyes and letting the sounds of the other children wash over him.

"Oh! Are we taking a nap today? Golly, this ol' dad wouldn't object to it!"

Logan pried an eye open. He thought he was ready, or at least prepared to fake it, but the grin on Patton's face still hit him like a punch to the stomach. He dropped his book and scrambled to his feet, willing himself not to panic at the surprise that crossed Patton's face.

"I love you!" The words slipped from his throat before he could stop them and he swallowed hard. His eyes burned as they dropped to the floor. Now that they hung in the air he refused to take them back. It was his mistake; he had to live with it.

"It's true," he whispered, "I'm not lying. I really do."

Logan listened to the rustle of cloth in front of him, but even then couldn't being himself to look up. He didn't want to see the pity on Patton's face. Or worse, complete indifference. Logan blinked rapidly, telling himself that it didn't matter if Patton loved him, he was fine with the way-

"Logan, sweetie," Patton's voice broke through his thoughts, a soft and gentle call for his attention. "Would you look at me?"

Logan dragged his eyes over to Patton's crouched form, and breathed in sharply at the tears that glittered in Patton's own eyes. The man opened his arms and whispered, "Can I hug you?"

Logan didn't wait for him to have a chance to change his mind, diving forward and almost sobbing as Patton's arms closed around him. It was so warm and safe just like the man who held him. He shuddered, the whole experience almost overwhelming him as he clung to Patton as tight as he could.

"I love you too," Patton said, and Logan felt him nuzzle at his hair. The teacher's voice choked on his words, "So much kiddo. More than you'll ever know."

Logan nodded into his shoulder. He didn't want to move, wanted to stay there forever or at least as long as Patton would let him. It would be the perfect thing to remember them by when they left. A moment where Logan could almost believe that he was wanted.

He only hoped that it wouldn't turn sour after they left him behind.

He startled at the affronted sound that come from behind Patton, pulling away on instinct. Logan blinked at the glare that Roman sent him, hand on his hips.

" _Excuse you,_ " Roman sniffed, and Logan tried not to shrink in on himself. "Where is _my_ love and hugs?!"

Logan felt his hand tighten on Patton's arm. Patton giggled, wrapping one arm around Logan again and gesturing to Roman with the other. Roman grinned a them both, bending down to sweep them both into a hug that squeezed at Logan's chest.

He couldn't breath, held between the two men. But he couldn't stop the way his lips twitched upwards either. He tangled his hands in both of their shirts, hiding his smile against Patton's chest.

"Much better!" Roman boomed, sliding back down along the wall into a tangle of limbs. He laughed, pressing a kiss to Patton's cheek as that other man giggled. "Family hug! One that Patton can't escape to take a picture of! HA!"

"Nooooo," Patton whined, squirming enough that Logan couldn't help the giggle that escaped his own lips. "Rooooooman, I need to reach my phone and take a picture! Preserve the memories! Start a new scrapbook with Logan in it!"

Logan felt his breath catch at that sentence. The idea that Patton would want to take enough pictures of him to start a book seemed too good to be true.

Roman tightened his grip on the two of them, his grin growing even wider.

"Never!" He declared, "I have captured you both and will now use you for my dastardly Evil King Plots. There is nothing you can do to escape me! Mwahahahaha, fear my power!"

"Did you-" Logan blinked, trying to tilt his head back to look to Roman's face from a better angle- "Did you really just say Mwahahaha out loud? You didn't even _laugh._ You _said_ it!"

Roman pouted, "So my evil laugh needs a little work-"

"A lot of work," Logan said dryly, before clamping his mouth shut and biting down on the inside of his cheek. He was supposed to be controlling himself. He wanted them to like him, to want to take him home, not-

"Well in that case!" Roman said, cutting through Logan's thoughts as his fingers prodded at Logan's side. Logan's hands flew up to his face to smother the giggles that tried to slip through at the sensation.  "You'll just have to help me perfect it! If you're the expert, then surely you'll help me perfect my technique!"

Logan squirmed out from between them, but even that didn't let him escape Roman's relentless fingers. He couldn't breath from how hard he was giggling. He sworn for a moment that Patton watched them both with the softest eyes Logan had ever seen as Logan finally broke, shrieking with laughter as he shoved at Roman's hands.

"St-stop," he gasped out, and almost blinked from surprise at how fast Roman's hands withdrew from his body.

"I am victorious!" Roman crowed, flopping over onto Patton's lap. "I have slain my greatest foe with my wits and skill! Praise me!"

Patton ran his fingers through Roman's hair and Logan squashed the part of his mind that wondered what that would feel like if Patton did it to him. Patton twisted a patch of Roman’s hair. "Truly, oh Mighty King, none can stand against your greatness!"

"Does that mean a lot when his greatest foe is ten?" Logan asked dryly. He winced again as Roman gasped. The man pressed a hand against his own chest sitting up with affront lining every inch of his body.

"How dare!" Roman said. His eyes danced in the light of the room, and Logan inched closer just to get a better look at them. They were a bright green, almost as brilliant as the park grass. Logan wondered if they were close enough to his own that people would just assume that Roman was his father.

"I am-" Roman's voice carried throughout the room, and for the first time Logan didn't care of the other kids were staring. Roman spoke as if Logan was the only one there with him, as if the story he wove was for Logan alone- "a talented, frightening villain. Having a ten year old as my nemesis is a credit to him, and not an insult to myself."

Roman winked at him. Logan bit his lip briefly before throwing out, "Or you've just held reign for so long that people won't believe how weak you really are."

Roman gaped at him as Patton clapped lightly.

"Honey!" Roman whacked Patton's arm lightly, "You're supposed to be on _my_ side"

"Oh! Right, golly I had forgotten, what am I again?" Patton flushed but his smile didn't waver. He propped his chin up on his hand watching them both as he sat cross-legged on the floor.

Logan hadn't taken the time to count them all but the freckles that dotted Patton's arms matched the ones on his own face. He had always thought that they made him look younger than he actually was. They were frivolous ridiculous things that made him even more ugly and childish. But if Patton could make them look nice-

No, Logan was going to be honest with himself.

If they made him look like he could be related to Patton, then they weren't so bad.

Logan pressed his leg against Roman's hoping that the man didn't comment on how Logan was steadily making his way closer to them again.

"The Evil Dragon," Logan prompted. "Though I believe that Roman sicced his subjects on you a couple weeks ago, so I assume you two had a falling out rather than having a steady relationship. I believe that you're no longer on working or speaking terms for that to happen-"

Roman whistled, "Someone's been analyzing his literature. Nothing gets past this brain here!"

Logan's head dipped under the weight of Roman's hand as the man ruffled his hair and every nerve ending along his scalp tingled. Logan pressed closer, chasing the warmth that their touch brought as he cleared his throat. He adjusted his glasses and glanced at Patton again.

The man beamed at him, hand clapped together in front of his mouth.

"Logan! Kiddo! Have you been analyzing the things that you read?" Logan didn't get why he sounded so giddy over the prospect. He nodded and winced with Roman as Patton squealed loudly. "So the _Anne Frank_ that I saw you reading earlier-!"

Logan shifted in his spot, blinking as the action brushed his shoulder against Patton's. He wasn't sure when he had gotten that close.

"I mean, a little bit? I didn't exactly write a report about it. I didn't think..." he trailed off, playing with the ends of his sleeves.

"Oh sweetheart that's alright! Roman's my sun, a real de _l_ _ight_ -" Logan wrinkled his nose, and tugged on Patton's sleeve in protest of the pun. Patton giggled, catching his hand and twinning their fingers together- "But he prefers his movies and musicals to books."

"Lies!" Roman cried, leaning over and Logan found himself blinking back tears at how easily they encompassed him in their warmth. "I read plenty of books! Harry Potter is a classic!"

"Classics by definition have to be timeless," Logan said, "Meaning Harry Potter hasn't been out long enough to stand against the test of time and prove itself true classic or not. It's simple a popular book at the moment."

"Betrayed! I thought you'd be on my side about this!" Roman cried, flopping against him and Logan grunted. He shoved at Roman's back and was met with laughter. "Oh no, gravity's increasing on me!"

Patton's laughter startled him, but not enough to cut off the indignant-

"That's not how gravity works!"

"It really is! There's nothing I can do!" Roman adjusted and Logan blinked down at the lap full of the man he got. Roman narrowed his eyes.

"You have no idea what I'm quoting." It came out like an accusation and Logan shrugged.

"No?"

Roman's arms flailed wildly, "How could you _not_? _Lilo and Stitch_ is a gift to mankind! A masterpiece! A true beauty! Cinema reaching perfection!"

Patton leaned over to stage whisper, "It's his favorite movie."

"Yeah," Logan said, eyeing Roman dubiously as the man pouted and crossed his arms. The weight against his legs wasn't that bad, warm and a little overwhelming in the same way that Patton's shoulder pressed against his was, but not bad. "I put that together."

"We are simply," Roman said, sniffing imperiously, "going to have to watch it together. This is non-negotiable. First family movie night! _Lilo and Stitch_!"

Logan's breath hitched again.

"Of course dear," Patton soothed, brushing the bangs from Roman's face. "That sounds like a marvelous idea. It might be a little  _alien_ to Logan, but I'm sure we can pull it off. First Family Movie Night. Then Logan gets to choose the next."

Logan narrowed his eyes at Patton. "There was a pun in there I can _feel_ it."

Patton's grin turned a little bit cheeky. "I have no _isle_ -da what you're talking about kiddo! I _sea_ nothing wrong with what I said!"

Logan buried his face in his hands. "No more," he moaned, "Please, I can't take it. I don't even know what they're about."

He wanted to though. He leaned against Patton's body. He didn't want to move even as Roman grasped Patton's hand to press a kiss to his husband's palm. The touch looked so tender and loving, and Logan ached with how much he wanted to be a part of it. The two men stared at each other as if they were the only ones who mattered in the whole world.

Yet even in the middle of that, Patton squeeze the hand he still held. Logan let his eyes slip closed, breathing in time with Patton as he felt the man's chest move under his head.

He wanted to go home with them. He wanted it more than anything in the world.

To have this moment as long as he wanted it to last rather than cut off whenever they had to leave.

Logan eyes snapped open as Roman took his hand in between his own.

"What-?"

Roman squinted, running smooth thumbs over his palm. "You've got a long head line. Get wrapped up in that big head of yours a lot, bud?" Roman tilted his head to grin slyly at him and Logan was torn between awe and offence.

"You're a fortune teller?!" He blurted. Roman blinked at him before throwing his head back in laughter. His skull dug into the space between Logan's thigh and Patton's, an uncomfortable feeling that faded as Roman calmed down.

"No, no, that's not my job," Roman said smugly, "Try again bud. I have a friend who used to be one, though. She's taught me a couple of things."

"Oh!" Patton said. "You mean Rebecca?"

"The one and only!" Roman replied running his thumbs over Logan's palm again. "She used to be a fortune teller, so she'll still do a few tips for the rest of us at-"

Logan leaned in, "The rest of you at?"

"Oh no, bud," Roman reached up to flick his nose lightly and Logan went crossed eyed trying to follow the motion. "I'm not making it that easy for you. I hear Patton even gave you a hint."

Roman shot a glare at Patton who shrugged unapologetically.

"Helping kids learn is _my_ job," Patton said.

Roman pouted again, "Oh I see who you're new favorite is! Our love falling apart after so many years of marriage! Woe is me, I say woe is meeeee. I dedicate my life to yours, and this is the thanks I get."

Patton leaned down and pressed a kiss to Roman's forehead. "Yup."

Logan giggled again, his face flushing when he couldn't cover the sound like he wanted to. Not without letting go of either of them. Patton would certainly notice if he did, and it would take time to untangle their fingers. Roman's thumbs had moved from exploring his palm to simply running circles along the back of his hand. He'd whine if Logan took his hand back and Logan didn't want to listen to that.

"Are you going to finish the reading?" Logan asked Roman curiously. Something flashed through Roman's eyes and he hummed.

"No, I don't think so," he said, tone childish.

"You can't do it," Logan accused and Roman narrowed his eyes.

"I can, too!"

"Prove it!" Logan tilted his chin up to match an expression that he had seen on Roman's face. "If you really can do it, prove it."

"You utter brat," Roman said, his tone too gleeful to mean it. His thumbs shifted to Logan's palm again, and he hummed in thought. "You have a long heart line, which means you're an analytical thinker, a grand wizard who puts others first. Well loved by the people."

Logan twitched his fingers. "That's not what it says, I'm not a wizard."

Roman flicked his palm light and glared at him, "Which of us has experience with this?"

"You, apparently," Logan said dryly.

"I mean, he's done mine!" Patton chirped.

"Oh I've done you many, many times," Roman said under his breath. Patton flushed a bright red with a squeak and whacked his arm with his free hand. Roman laughed, trying to roll away from the onslaught.

"What?" Logan asked as Roman settled against his side but Patton didn't let up, "What? What does that mean?"

Patton flushed even brighter and stuck a finger into his husbands face. "If you even _think_ of explaining that, you're going to be _done_ doing me."

Logan tugged on Roman's sleeve, widened his eyes as much as he could and whispered, "Roman, Roman, what does he mean? What are you talking about?"

Roman glanced wildly between the two of them, clearly stuck as to who to answer. Logan stuck out his bottom lip, and mentally grinned gleefully at the way Roman's mind seemed to visibly shut down. Patton's glare intensified and he muttered something about their couch under his breath that left Roman sputtering.

"So, how bout that heart line, bud!" Roman said, voice gaining an octave as he met Patton's eyes. "Which you clearly have and we're clearly going back to, yes!"

Logan scrunched his nose up. "I'll find out one day."

"You will!" Patton agreed cheerfully. Roman flinched at the tone. "Just not today!"

"I want it to be today though," Logan whined. "I want to know!"

"It's something for when you're older! Like next six months older sure but that's still six months away! And it's really not for younger ears." Patton coughed and glanced at the other kids racing around the room. Logan felt the tips of his ears turn bright red in embarrassment. He had forgotten all about the others.

"Fine," he muttered, and sunk down against the wall to sulk. If it meant that he could better grip both of their hands and be squashed between their warmth than that was for him to know. Patton smiled indulgently at him.

"Soon, kiddo," Patton said, and opened his mouth as if he was going to add to it before closing it again. A distant look entered his eyes as he looked away from Logan. "Soon," he repeated softly.

Roman squeezing Logan's hand caught his attention and the kid turned to look at him. Roman grinned brightly at him. "Really soon, bud. I think your heart line says it too."

"Does not. They don't say things like that, I know _that much_ ," Logan snapped. Roman snickered.

"It does say that you'll have a long life. That you're a rock in trying times that people will rely on. A gift Logan, really, that's what you are." Something about his tone made Patton turn to stare at his husband with heavy, thought filled eyes. Logan was tempted to know what it was that made Patton look that way, but Roman's hand squeezing his felt like a warning not to.

Logan nodded, something warm filling his chest as Roman's boisterous grin softened to smile lined with an emotion that Logan didn't know the name of.

"I don't know if I should believe you," Logan declared, mostly just for the offended look on Roman's face.

"Excuse you!" Roman gasped.

"Oh, he is most certainly excused, Mr. Sanders."

Logan stiffened at the voice, his spine going ramrod straight as he turned to meet Ms. Trumpbull's eyes.

* * *

Roman blinked as Trumpbull leveled a dark look in Logan's direction. He hadn't realized how close Logan had been sitting until the kid sat up and the warmth along his side fled with it. Fitting for the woman in front of them he guessed. Didn't mean Roman had to like it.

"Oh no," Roman said carefully, "He's fine. Just a little joking around, you know."

Trumpbull hummed, eyes raking over them all. The scrutiny made him fight the urge to straighten his worn jacket. It wasn't the best looking but it had served him well through the years, on top of being a wedding gift from Ana Maria. The elegant script on the back quoting Chicago make it worth all that more in Roman's opinion.

"If you say so, Mr. Sanders," she said. Something about the way she said it make his hackles rise, and Roman straightened, (that is to say he sat up, no one could truly straighten him, ha gay joke!) leaning forward to help block her view of Logan.

"I really do," he said, leveling his eyes with hers.

Her eye twitched just briefly, and, god, Roman wished it had been any of the other matrons today. Even the ever strict Ms. Wilson was better than the woman in front of him.

Trumpbull broke the stare and turned to look at Patton instead.

"And the other Mr. Sanders as well," she greeted, "Are you perhaps thinking of a joint adoption? It's not all that often these days we get brothers coming in to look at the kids."

Ice raced down Roman's spine. His confident stance faltered and he tried to ignore the questioning glance that Logan shot him.

Patton's smile turned just that littlest bit sharp and any other time Roman would have wondered when he could slam his husband against the wall. Now the thought made him shrink a little more inside of himself.

"Oh no, we're not brothers," Patton corrected with the same ease he had corrected so many others.

"Then cousins?" Trumpbull pushed, "I really would like to speak to the missus-"

"I think you have misunderstood me," Patton steamrolled over her, and the look in his eyes was the same one that Roman had seen last time someone purposely misgendered Ana Marie. "Roman is my husband. We have been married for six wonderfully gay years. Is there a problem that you need to speak with us about? Ma'am?"

Trumpbull's face twitched again, and settled into a scowl. The silence of the room pressed down on Roman's chest, and even after all these years, the ring on his finger felt a little too much like he had been caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar.

"Yes," she said, eyes as steely as her voice, "I believe there is. Logan. Logan come here."

Roman felt his grip spasm on Logan's had as the kids stood up slowly. Logan's grip tightened in return and it took all of Roman's admittedly not great self-control not to snatch Logan back from the woman. He could have sworn that Logan's hand shook right before it let go, trailing down his palm in clear reluctance.

"Logan!" Trumpbull snapped, "Here. Now."

Logan tripped over his feet hurrying to the woman's side and Roman scowled.

"Hey now, there's no reason to yell-" he started, only to flinch back as she turned her gaze on him. The familiar judgement choked his words and he blindly reached for Patton's hand. His husband linked their fingers, drawing Trumpbull's gaze back to him like the goddamn Knight he was.

"I will not have your- your- your _type_ here," she snarled, hand landing on Logan's head. Roman felt his own eyes drop at the words, his stomach heaving with nausea. Patton's hand squeezed his, silver rings clinking together at the action. "That is my problem."

"I'm afraid that I don't know what you mean," Patton said steadily, sickly sweet. "What exactly is our type? Is it my teaching degree? Surely one of your own teachers would have taught you _respect_."

The silence rang in Roman's ears, and he wanted to take pride in the way that Trumpbull's face rapidly grew a crimson that warmed of an explosion.

She took several deep breaths, before hissing. Her hand pressed down on Logan even more, the possessive gesture seeming to bow his back. "It is my job to see these children to safe and loving homes. I don't even need to see your files to know that you are not fit to raise anyone. The state should be ashamed you have a license at all. If that principle has any respect he'll have you out as soon as he knows."

"She, actually," Patton corrected, probably a little too gleefully, and Roman felt his fingers go numb from how tight he gripped Patton's hand. "Ms. Turner is a wonderfully responsible woman who employs the best that she can."

Trumpbull sniffed, "Well, we here have better sense. Logan may be a handful, troublesome child, but he can be fixed. You, however, cannot. I would suggest prayer and therapy for your sake, but I can see that it is too late for you already. May Heaven have mercy on souls."

"Why, thank you," Patton shot back, aggressively, "I'm sure it will."

Roman could hear the woman's teeth grind from where he sat. "I think," she said, “That you gentlemen should take your leave. _Now_.”

Patton scowled. “I don’t believe that you-”  
  
“Gentlemen, I _will_ call the police on you,” she snarled.

Roman tugged on Patton’s arm. “Pat, let’s just go. We can come back later.”

Patton stood up, even if his glare didn’t waver. It did stumble for a brief moment, as Patton glanced at Logan. The brilliant, wonderful man bent down and whispered, “We’ll see you soon, kiddo.”

Roman trailed after him as Patton stormed towards the door. He didn’t think much of the low, “Stay here,” that he heard Trumpbull say until heavy footsteps started up behind them. The tension in his shoulders skyrocketed, pace picking up so that he was equal with Patton.

“Mr. Sanders,” Trumpbull said once they had finally exited the building. She waited until they both turned around before letting a sick grin cross her face. “I hope that you realize you will not be welcomed back.”  
  
Patton’s head snapped up and a snarl crossed his face as the woman studied her nails. “We have to keep the children safe you see. Even if you do get back into the building, I’ll see to it myself. You’re never going to see young Logan again.”

“But- wait-!” Roman shouted, taking a step forward only to stumble back as the door slammed in his face.

He whirled to face Patton. His husbands face was rapidly losing color as what the woman had said sank in.  
  
“No,” Patton whispered in horror. “Please, _no_.”


	6. Not Every Card's A Trump Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this arc is officially going to be about twice as long as i had originally planned (whoops)
> 
> More angst for all you lovely individuals and as always huge thanks to WisePuma23!

Logan couldn't feel his fingertips. Distantly he was aware of the fact that he had reached a point beyond panic, but he couldn't do more than focus on trying to get more air every time he took a breath.

Trumpbull's hand on his shoulder seared his skin even through his ragged shirt, and it took everything he had not to burst into tears then and there. She didn't like it when they cried. She didn't like it when the _boys_ cried especially. He tried to take another breath as she all but shoved him down the stairs.

The silence weighed against his mind, an iron weight dragging him down into the unknowable depths of the ocean. Everything was spinning, and the lack of comment when he stumbled sent his fear skyrocketing even more.

"Please," he whispered as she pulled the basement door open. The old wood shuddered at the force of it. Logan's eyes burned as he tried not to blink and let the tears spill over. "I- I was good this time. I was, I did my best."

He yelped as her fingers dug into his hair and yanked. He stood on his tiptoes, bending his head back to try and relieve the pressure. His lips thinned, his chest shuddered and he finally lost the fight with his eyes.

"Please boy," Trumpbull snarled as he started to sob helplessly, silently, with heaving breaths that weren't enough. "Don't think that you can lie to me. Not only do you take every opportunity to be a know it all brat that gets on the last nerves of everyone around you, but you were with _them_. Being with them isn't good, and for that you'll be punished."

She released the hold on his hair and Logan crumpled to the floor. He pressed his hand to his face, wishing that he had the bravery to stand up and run. Run until he caught up with Roman and Patton and could bury his face in Roman's chest where it felt like nothing like this would ever reach him again. A brilliant sparkling lie, like the stories the man crafted.

"It's not fully your fault today," Trumpbull said, the anger finally leaving her voice. And oh Logan hated it. He hated how it still made him look up hopefully as if he hadn't learned that her letting him go now only meant worse pain later. She wasn't kind, he tried to remind himself, only different types of cruel.

"No, it's only your fault that you didn't inform me of the nature of their relationship. You've been in close contact with sin, young Logan. And you've been there willingly." Logan flinched back. He froze at the heavy gaze that she laid on him. The sobs in his chest turned into whimpers, helpless sounds that he couldn't hold back as she approached. "So I will punish you before God will. Cleanse your soul of all wrong doings."

"Please," Logan begged. His voice cracked, and his whole body froze even as all he wanted to was crawl away. "Please not that. Please- I'll be good- Anything but that- Please- please-"

Trumpbull gripped his arm hard enough to bruise. Logan had to scramble to his feet or risk being dragged along the rough floor of the basement. He sobbed, tugging at his arm as hard as he could, fingernails trying to pry Trumpbull's finger off of him.

"This is for your own good brat," Trumpbull spoke over his pleas. "A few hours will teach you the proper ways. It will put much needed steel in your spine as your soul is cleansed from sin."

Logan's feet scraped against the floor, thin shoes struggling to find purchase as she carried him to the corner he never wanted to see again. For all that he found himself there again and again.

Her fingers spasmed on his arm and Logan sobbed even hard, finally going limp as the door to the closet clicked while Trumpbull unlocked it. The smell that drifted from it clogged his nose. He gagged. The action clashed with his sobs and Logan coughed trying to get himself back under control.

"Straighten up, brat," Trumpbull's voice echoed in his ears and Logan tried, he really did. She scowled down at him. He trembled even harder. "Very well then. The pain won't be my fault in the end."

She shoved him into the box at the back of the closet. He could stand in it with room to spare, and Logan tried very hard not to wonder what she did with taller kids that made her this upset. His back straightened instinctively at the sharp edges it found against the wood, and he sobbed again.

Logan had seen a glimpse of it in the light, just once. The rusted nails and jagged pieces of glass that had been hammered into the wood. A deliberate act that meant he had to stand as straight and still as possible of face the consequences. Best case scenario was a short burst of pain, worst was another scar along his body and weeks of lying about what had happened to him.

Logan had long learned that no one would believe him.

Trumpbull shook her head; the door to the box creaked shut and Logan stood alone with the darkness and the intimate knowledge that movement in any direction would earn him pain.

* * *

Patton has messed up. The knowledge sat deep in his heart, to the point that even Roman’s arms around his body couldn’t help. He trembled, gripping his husband’s shirt even tighter as Roman made a meaningless gentle noise. Large hands tangled in his hair and scratched at his scalp, running circles as if that could chase away the tension he had rapidly gained.

Roman shushed him, and nuzzled at his hair. “We’re almost home, mi amor. Just a little bit farther Pat, you're doing amazing. I love you, god, I adore you so so much."

The words caught something in his chest and Patton barely felt the steps of their porch before the dam broke. His legs gave out underneath him, and even though Roman's arms were tight and steady around his waist and arms, Patton still felt as if he had tilted into a free fall.

He sobbed. Each breath in felt like a stab to his chest, and he couldn't help but remember Logan's head leaning against him. The thought made him sob harder. He couldn't lie down and take it, not with the way Roman's eyes had widened. The pale look on Roman's face had made him feel like they were all of nineteen again, and Patton had never wanted Roman to look that upset with himself again.

His arms flailed as Roman drew him into his lap, tugging Patton's head against his chest. Patton wound his arms around Roman's waist, gripping at the cloth he found there again until all he could feel was the pain of his palms and the vibrations of Roman's voice.

"It's- it's- it's my fault," Patton gasped out between breaths. He felt his bad mood grow as he realized he had cut off whatever Roman had been saying. He couldn't be a good husband, couldn't be a father at all. He squeezed his eyes shut and smashed his face against Roman's chest even more. "I should- should have- have stayed quiet. Or- or- or-"

Roman shushed him again, rocking back and forth. "It's not your fault, my dear." Roman swallowed heavily, and Patton wanted to tell him it was alright to be upset as much as he didn't want to interrupt again. "You were well within your right to try and slay such an evil dragon. She was encroaching on your territory after all."

Patton giggled. It felt rough and torn in his throat but so much smoother than even more sobs.

"You aren't responsible for her actions," Roman murmured, pressing a kiss to his scalp. "She is a horrible, evil woman who should never work with kids that much is clear. If you're an Evil Dragon than she is a gaping black hole of nothingness and hatred. Were you to be the Knight that slays her I would be the proudest man in the world."

"I can't-"

Roman shoved a finger at his face and Patton found himself crossed eyed trying to follow it. He giggled again. It didn't fix things but it did make him feel better. He adjusted his spot in Roman's lap, chasing the warmth that Roman always brought.

"You can!" Roman declared, "You can and you will! You may have struggled alone but now the Prince is-"

Patton looked up as Roman's voice cracked. He swiped at his face and Patton reached up to cup his cheeks. Roman glanced away and his voice was hoarse as he said, "I'm- I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just- Just give me a- a second."

Patton took a deep breath and wriggled in Roman’s hold, shifting until his back as flush against Roman’s chest. He hooked an ankle around Roman’s leg and threaded their fingers together. He brought Roman’s palm up to his face to give it a lingering kiss. He waited. He had waited before he could wait again. He’d wait forever for the man holding him if that’s what Roman needed.

“I’m sorry, I just-”  
  
Patton shook his head and pressed another to kiss to Roman’s hand, to a knuckle this time.

“It’s alright to be sad,” Patton whispered, wincing at the gravel of his own voice. “If I can be sad, which you insist on, then you can be sad too my Prince. You loved him. You _love_ him, almost more than I do.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Roman blurted. Patton kissed the next knuckle on his hand; Roman buried his face in Patton’s neck and Patton could feel the tears that gathered there. “She _insulted_ you, insulted us! And all I could do was shrink like a damsel in distress. Like a kid caught by his parents! I’m supposed to protect you! If I can’t protect you how can I protect Logan and if I can’t protect Logan-”

“What right do I have to be a father?” Patton asked, and felt Roman flinch against his back.

Patton leaned back against him even more, letting his weight ground Roman. "I've asked myself the same thing. What _is_ a good parent Ro? Someone who snaps at a woman who upset him? Someone who stands up for what he believes in? There's just- people are just-! people! _People_ Roman! They're little tangled balls of soft yarn and thorns- Roses! People are roses!"

Roman snickered wetly against his neck. "I have no idea what you just said Professor P-love."

Patton sighed and squeezed Roman's hand. He tilted his head back, feeling Roman hook his chin over the new space and watched the clouds drift over the sky, brilliant pinks and golds from the setting sun.

“How can we ever do more than what we think is right?” Patton whispered. “People aren’t perfect, and neither are we, we just-”

Roman’s arms tightened around his waist. “We want to be.”

Patton sighed and nodded. He felt exhausted. Today was supposed to be a good day; he had taken it off so that he could see Logan, not be told he could never see the boy again. He blinked rapidly at that thought, willing himself not to start crying together.

“You know what?” Roman said finally, “I think this calls for comfort food and Disney movies! A pile of blankets and junk food and each other until we feel better! Come Patton! I shall beat back at least this beast hounding you!”

He jostled Patton’s leg until the two of them were untangling from each other. Roman ushered Patton into the house, directing him towards the closet of blankets and disappearing into the kitchen himself.

Patton stared at the collection of fluffiness for a long moment, trying to scrub the thought that Logan’s hug had felt better than these from his mind. This was about feeling better, not worse.

His breath hitched and all Patton really wanted was a hug. He wanted someone to tell him that everything was going to be alright. That they were going to make it alright. Roman would; the moment Patton asked his arms would be open and the words would flow from his lips along with endless love. But it wouldn’t be quite enough when Roman was struggling to believe it himself.

Patton sniffled, swiping at his face again.

There was only one other person that he could think of and he hated to bother her.

Patton tugged a pile of the blankets out of the closet to take to the couch. He wrapped one around his shoulders immediately, sinking into the warmth that it provided. He could hear Roman shuffling around in the kitchen; the sound of the cupboards opening and closing meant that Roman was likely going to make them both drinks as well as snacks.

Patton blinked back tears, torn between a helpless deepening love of the man he had married, and an endlessly gaping hole torn in his heart. Roman had been right. Logan had been the one. Patton didn't know if he would be able to look at another child and not see Logan ever again. And didn't that make him a horrible person, let alone father.

His hands curled around the edges of his blanket and he trembled. He gave in.

Patton reached for his phone, hating that he still had to reach out for his sister at every opportunity. He fiddled with his sleeve as the phone rang. He hoped that she wasn't in the middle of a case, or busy, or asleep; she needed her rest and focus.

It clicked and Patton bit back a sob at the warm voice that greeted him.

"Yo little bro! What's up Pat? You went to see the kiddo today right? How'd that go?" Patton curled his legs up as he listened to her shuffle around her apartment. He could picture her setting down her razor and pulling on a her pajamas already. A cup of tequila in her hands and Patton thought he could hear her own TV blaring in the background.

He pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to quiet his sniffles but from the sharp intake of breath on the other end it wasn't quiet enough.

"It went- It went- I mean-" His voice wavered.

"Oh Patty," Ana Marie sighed. "You sit your ass down, if Roman hasn't made you do that already and I'll be right over."

He winced, "You don't have to-"

"Nonsense," Ana Marie waved him off, "You know that Ma and Mother would have my head if they ever learned I let you cry your eyes out alone. I'll bring The Sadness Pack(tm). It'll be like that time you thought Roman dumped you, only with Roman being there. God that would have been awkward."

Patton giggled softly, and could practically hear his sister beam at the sound.

"There we go Patty. The world isn't right if I don't have my obnoxious cheery younger brother laughing. I love you. I'll be right over alright?"

"If you're sure-"

Patton didn't get to finish his sentence as Roman tugged the phone out of his hand. Patton blinked at the mug that Roman thrust into his hands instead.

"Early clock?" Roman asked, "What, no that nickname made perfect sense! Ana Marie, A-M! Early morning- fine be that way, see if I save any cookies for you."

Patton set the warm mug on his lap, leaning away from the steam that fogged up his glasses and watched Roman flinch at something Ana Marie said on the other end. "Yeah no it didn't go well at all. I know that says nothing but maybe we're not up for _t_ _alking_ about it yet have you thought about that?"

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, and all Patton could make out was the faint deeper tone of his sister's voice. "Look, you are more than welcome to come over Ana, just- just don't push too much alright?" Roman let out a bitter laugh, "That's us, pair of hypocrites, see you soon."

Roman let out a heavy breath. Patton tried to smile wobbly at him and got a weak grin in return. His husband flopped back onto the couch and curled up into his side. A low whine slipped from the back of Roman's throat as he tugged on Patton's blanket. "You're not going to share?"

Patton raised his arm, letting Roman slip under it and adjust the blanket to his liking. It wasn't much of a distraction but Patton would take it. Would take anything they offered him in times like this, even when he had to struggle not to feel guilty about it.

Once he was comfortable, Roman took a handful of cookies and stacked them on Patton's laugh. Patton sighed. Roman thought that sugar would solve all of Patton's feelings. The memory of the time he had brought an entire basket of pastries home after Patton had flunked a class usually brightened Patton right up. After all, it mean that Roman was thinking of him.

Cookies were better than flowers anyways.

But now all cookies made him think of was the fact that he had told Logan that he was going to bring more and now he couldn't. He poked at the cookies, not really feeling the urge to eat them. If anything his stomach still felt tight and nausea reigned from his upset heart.

Roman pressed in even closer, and Patton wondered if it was for himself or for his comfort. Either way, Patton sighed, leaning to rest his cheek against the top of Roman's scalp. He closed his eyes, and they say that was for he didn't know how long; the two of them curled together again, just taking in the feeling of the other breathing and trying not to let the day get to them too much.

Patton's head shot up as their door creaked open. Roman yelped as Patton threw the blanket off his shoulders and leapt off the couch, and threw himself into Ana Marie's open and waiting arms. The bags she had in her arms dropped to the floor with a light thump, but it didn't nothing to stop her arms from tightening around him.

Patton cracked again as she held him close, one hand wrapped around his waist and the other coming to rest along his neck.

"Oh Patty," she breathed, "It's going to be alright. Tell me all about it, and big sis will solve it for you. I used to box you remember, it'll be Charles all over again. I promise not to get caught this time. And even if I do I'm a lawyer, bitches won't be able to beat me in court. I'd like to see them try."

Patton tried to grin against her shoulder, but it came out feeling fake and strained. She shuffled him back to the couch, gently pushing him back down next to Roman.

"Stay," she commanded them both and went to grab the bags she had dropped.

Patton scrubbed at his red eyes again, wishing that his eyes were the only things that felt rubbed raw. Roman reached out for him, hand tangling with his and Patton wished desperately that he could find a balance between his grief and his love for the people that he did have in front of him.

"Alright losers!" Ana Marie called, sauntering over to the television. "Let's get this Sad Fest started. We're having a no holds barred Feelings Night. Completely with movies guaranteed to make Patty cry. Cookies and ice cream included."

She flicked the television on. Patton snuggled back down into the couch as she started up a movie and turned back with a grin. "But most importantly," she declared, bending down to dig through her bags again. "I have brought!" She held a small stuffed toy up triumphantly.

Patton squeaked at the sight of what was really nothing more than a patchwork blob of green and blue. "Sir Squiggles the Brave!"

"Damm gay," Ana Marie said, tossing the worn stuffie in his direction. Patton caught it and immediately smashed is face in the familiar soft fur. "I thought you'd need him more than I did right now. So I'm passing him back to you again."

She turned and leaned back to fall into the couch cushions. Roman hissed as she took the spot between the two of them and Ana Marie stuck her tongue out in return.

"Thank you," Patton whispered, his voice muffled by the blob he still had his face mashed into.

"Bah," Ana Marie shoved at Roman and wicked at Patton, "What are older siblings for? I'm the only one allowed to make you cry after all. Now sit back and be prepared to cry little bro. We're starting with _Marley and Me_."

Patton let out a cry of disbelief that was only beaten by the one that Roman howled. Ana Marie threw back her head to cackle, but Patton could feel the way her arm settled around his shoulder to give it a squeeze.

It wasn’t perfect, but Patton let his head lean against her shoulders and tried to pretend that it was.

* * *

“Hey Roman?” Patton stared at their ceiling in the dark, counting the rainbow stars that glowed there. Roman’s heavier weight shifted on their bed and Patton curled into the arm over his waist even more. He wanted to sleep; he was exhausted and had expected to fall asleep the moment his head had hit the pillow.

Only one stressed thought circled his head and refused to let him rest.

“Mmhm, yes dearest?” Roman murmured. He nuzzled into Patton’s neck and slipped a leg over Patton’s. The warm pressure of Roman pulling him even closer chased his thoughts away for a brief moment.

“What did Logan’s heart line really say?” Patton whispered.

Roman’s arm spasmed around his waist. Patton felt his heart sink; he tried not to put too much stock into things like palm reading, but his mind had never quite been able to stop his heart. The idea of magic and destiny appealed to them both. It was part of why they had slotted together so well.

The silence stretched on, long enough that Patton began to wonder if maybe Roman had fallen asleep again.

“Broken. It was a broken heart line, Pat,” Roman finally said.

Patton gasped. He turned to look at Roman, but Roman had turned away from him, looking up at the stars. The arm around Patton's waist slipped away, leaving him cold and strangely alone as Roman murmured mostly to himself, "Broken, meaning trauma. I had hoped that-"

His voice caught and Patton reached out for Roman himself. He wrapped an arm around Roman's chest, and brought the other up to run through Roman's hair. Roman trembled silently. They sat there in the dark, Patton clutching Roman's body as if he could hold his husband together through sheer force of will.

Patton took a deep breath.

And wished that things would be better in the morning.

* * *

He couldn't get a hold of the group home.

Roman scrubbed a hand through his hair, glaring down at the pile of mail on the table. He would have said they personally offended him if asked. Especially the one on the very top.

God, how was he going to break it to Patton? Roman could barely tear his eyes away from the damned thing, torn between a breathtaking anger, the never ending grief from the past few days, and a disgust in himself that he thought he had finally dealt with. The fancy script taunted him, digging claws into old wounds brought to the surface. He was bleeding out and trying to hide it from Patton.

And failing rather badly if the clinginess they had taken on at night said anything.

Roman wasn't sure what noise slipped from his throat, but it wasn't a pretty one as he snatched the offending paper from their table.

_It is our deepest regrets to inform you that we can no longer welcome you on the premise of Happy Hearts and Homes for Orphaned Children..._

His fingers trembled, the paper crinkling as he fought not to simply tear it to pieces. Roman was supposed to have been visiting Logan, was supposed to go with Patton today and any hope of that had been neatly smashed against the rocks. His throat closed up. His eyes burned.

Logan- so hesitant to open up- would never know why they didn’t stop by.

God, he wanted to hate the world. To grasp at bitterness again like he had for so long, and let it color his actions a bright brilliant red. He wanted let others feel the pain that he had and-

Roman sucked in a deep breath, setting the paper down. His hand smacked against the table and he winced at the sharp echo through the empty house that it had caused. Energy crackled under his skin, enough that Roman was glad for once that magic wasn't real. He wouldn't want Patton to come home to a destroyed house and one more thing to cry about.

He whirled on his heel without a thought, slamming the door open as he took off. He barely paused to make sure that it was locked behind him. Roman turned down the street and he ran.

His feet pounded down the sidewalk, and Roman spared a moment to wonder if he should have changed into better clothes for this. He normally didn't, at least for runs like this. These weren't for his health, at least not his physical health, or even to keep Dillan off of his back.

No, these were for when he needed to breathe. He ran when he needed to work off anger and grief and devastation and a million other negative emotions that he knew Patton was already struggling with. He wanted to be able to support his husband, and Roman knew that Patton did better if he had someone to lean on.

And Roman hated to be seen as weak.

Patton would never think that of him, but years of life with others thinking and saying different left him with scars. Scars that he had tried to scrub away, mentally and physically, until he bled. Until Patton laid a soft hand on his own and drew him into a soft hug.

God, that only made him think of Logan and the fact that Roman had wanted to help the kid in that way too.

He turned sharply around a corner. The air in his lungs burned already, trying to drag him out of his spiraling thoughts and memories. Every step pounded against his body, vibrating through his bones and climbing all the way to his teeth. They ground together, rattling as he picked up his pace, ignoring the way that his muscles protested the decision.

Patton wanted kids. He had never once shut up about the idea of a family. And god, Roman agreed with his whole heart and soul. He wanted a home and a family and a career he could be proud of and a man he could love with his whole being. No matter what the world said.

Roman had two of four, half way there. A third on the way.

The fourth snatched from his hands, because he had been too much of a fucking coward-

Roman staggered and leaned against the nearest wall, not caring what it was or where he had ended up. His chest heaved and his legs finally gave out underneath him as he curled into a ball to hold back sobs.

No matter how much he tried to tell himself that maybe Patton would be enough, or that there were countless other kids who needed help, he always saw the same thing. Logan's bright hesitant grin as he said his name. Sharp, excited eyes that matched a mouth that went on way too long about any sort of subject.

The truth was this: Roman didn't want to help just any kid anymore. He wanted to help _Logan_.

He laid his head on his knees, struggling to breathe. God, he was such a mess.

Roman carefully stretched his cramping muscles out. He welcomed the burn in his leg muscles as a distraction, swiping at his face. He could make it through this. He had made it through worse. He still had Patton and Ana Marie. He had a family, even if he didn't have kids.

Roman reached for his toes and winced as his phone rang. He reached for his pocket as the strains of _Poor Unfortunate Souls_ grew even louder.

"Dragon Witch," he greeted, and winced at the gravel in his voice.

"God Princey," Ana Marie said, "You sound like you swallowed a grater. Please tell me you didn't. I don't want to have to track you down and drive you to the ER again. Please, I can't stand the sight of another weird object coming out of your mouth."

"That wasn't my fault," Roman protested.

"Whatever you say!" She said, and Roman could just hear the grin on her face. His hand twitched against his leg and Roman wondered if hauling himself up off the ground to punch his sister-in-law in the face would be to petty. Her voice sobered. "But seriously, are you alright Roman? Do you need me to pick you up?"

"I'm-"

"If you say fine I'm going to drive to your house and swap your favorite set of Disney movies with Star Trek box sets." Roman let out an unholy noise at her threat.

"Don't you touch my babies!" he yelped, finally scrambling to his feet.

"Then don't lie to someone who's job it is to sniff those out," Ana Marie shot back, "Patton texted me something completely unintelligible, where the fuck are you?"

Roman's heart sank and he pressed his free hand to his eyes. "I went on a run," he said quietly. Silence met his words, the kind that weighed down on his chest and made him wish that he had never opened his mouth.

"Oh Roman," she whispered, and something rustled on her end of the phone. "You'd better be back by the time I come over. Big sister is coming to the rescue today. I'm gonna lawyer punch some motherfuckers in the teeth for you."

Roman rolled his eyes. "I doubt that would help."

"Bah, I used to box, you'd be surprised how much a good right hook changes thing," she said.

"I think it would get you thrown out of court," Roman shot back. He stumbled his way back to the house, the grief in his chest lightening at the sound of her laughter. Ana Marie would help them sort through this. They'd fight and scream and protest until Logan was where he was supposed to be.

With them.


	7. Not Every Card's A Trump Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slides in right before midnight* This counts as posting on Friday right? Right

He hurt.

Logan wanted to blame the mottled bruises and cuts hidden by his shirt, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Because for all the bandages he had wrapped around his arms, it wasn’t there that ached. His chest felt tight, a steel band wrapped around it that had nothing to do with Trumpbull for once.

Roman was supposed to be here days ago.

Logan took a shuddering breath, and glanced out the window again.

Maybe if he stared long enough they’d arrive. Maybe then he’d forget the endless wait from the past couple of days. The way his heart still pounded because any moment now,  _ any moment _ , Roman was going to walk in through the door and apologize. Roman would grin and laugh and rub the back of his neck awkwardly. Logan would scoff and hug him and-

Logan swiped at his eyes, curling a little tighter into the window sill that overlooked the courtyard entrance.

He didn’t want them to be like the others. He didn’t want to give up on them. He didn’t want them to give up on him.

But he never got that choice. 

Logan wasn’t the one in control of his own life. Not in the slightest. All he could so was tighten his sails and batten down the hatches as he waited for the storm to abate. He could hope that Trumpbull hadn’t scared them off. That they really did love him as much as they said and would come back.

Only the growing lonely days said otherwise. The broken schedule, one that Roman had kept almost religiously despite Patton’s joking that he could never get Roman to follow a deadline for anything else, also said otherwise. The shut doors, the waiting in an empty room, the staring out a window without there ever being a hope of thinking they were coming.

It had only been a week. Not even a week, Logan tried to remind himself. Things happened. Something had happened and it wasn’t that they were leaving him behind. There was no proof- There was-

There was years of being returned. There were visits that turned sours. Visits that didn’t but the adults never returned anyways. Loneliness and broken hope clawed at his back to reach his heart, all of them screaming otherwise. Experience had taught him that.

Hope did nothing to change reality.

Logan longed for a book, for a distraction. Only he had  _ tried _ that. He had tried to bury himself in different worlds and experiences, tried to find the rush of learning and figuring out something new. But the fear and pain wouldn’t let him focus. He had read the same pages over and over again. He couldn’t even remember what book he had picked up.

Logan blinked and focused his attention outside the window again. A couple of the other kids laughed, chasing each other around the long grass and over the bench. Logan tore his eyes away, the memory of sitting there with Roman nothing but painful. He resisted the urge to reach out and trace the edge of the window.

Not only would it be unsanitary but it would be useless as well.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut and slipped away from the window, ignoring the spike of fear that came with the action. He didn’t want to miss the moment they came back for him. He wanted to wave at Patton as the man approached the building. But Logan couldn’t just sit there any longer without feeling like he was going to go mad. 

He shuffled over to the bookshelf, running a hand along the spines of the closest shelf. He tried to take comfort from the worn edges and familiar words. Laughter echoed from down the hall. Warm and welcomed unlike him.

Logan eyed the different titles, knowing that he had almost cleared out the shelf he was standing at. There were only so many books he could read without being able to visit the library. His fingers close around the most battered book there, and he hated how much of a child he felt like by tugging out the one book he could never stop reading.   
  
_ The Ugly Duckling _   
  
He knew that he wasn't a swan, but there had always been hope. The 'duckling' had never learned different until he had grown up. Maybe it was the same for Logan. Maybe he just had to wait and things would get better.   
  
No matter what the evidence piling up said.   
  
He clutched the book to his chest, the familiar weight helping to calm him slightly as he made his way back to the window. He didn't want to miss the moment when Roman or Patton or both of them came back. He could wait for them. He would.    
  
Because they would come back.   
  
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying just as hard to shut out the memory of waiting and waiting and for the first time, no one appearing. The way that the earth had seemed to shake under his feet when Ms Hudson had quietly told him that it looked like the Sanders wouldn't be by that day and led him to the dining hall. Something had been off in that moment, but Logan didn't want to think about what.   
  
Maybe Roman had called to cancel and Ms Hudson simply hadn't had the heart to tell him. She was one of the nicer matrons like that. Thinking she could protect them from pain. Even when it was impossible.   
  
Logan ran a finger over the illustration of the Ugly Duckling in front of him.    
  
He sighed. Logan looked up, glancing out the window. He didn't have much hope that they would come back if he was honest with himself. They had lasted longer than anyone else in a way, but they hadn't ever taken him  _ home _ . A fascination and nothing more in the end, as Logan always was, something to leave behind the moment they got bored.    
  
He blinked. His heart skipped a beat. Logan went so far as to rub at his eyes to make sure that he hadn't fallen asleep at the sight of Roman and Patton hurrying down the street towards the group home. He held his breath, chest aching with the hope that Logan tried to hold back as he waited for them to turn into the courtyard and head towards the door.   
  
The book flew from his lap after he had watched them enter the facility. Logan scrambled to get out of the windowsill, his heart pounding as he ran towards the door.    
  
They had  _ come back _ .   
  
Logan almost wanted to cry at the thought. Hope bloomed, dangerous and oh so sweet in his chest, as he glanced down the hall, trying to gauge which way they would come from. He picked a direction and  _ ran _ .    
  
This time was the time.   
  
He'd ask- no, he'd beg if that was what it would take for them to take him home with them. He'd offer to do all the chores he could at the moment. He'd be the best in school. He'd do  _ anything _ , if it meant that he could walk down the street between them, Roman's hand on his head and Patton's hand in his. Logan wanted, for the first time that he could remember, he  _ wanted _ to impress them with his smarts.    
  
He wanted them to love him as much as he loved them. To listen to Patton's memories more, hear tales of older kids in high school learning English, eat slightly burnt cookies. Logan wanted to figure out what Roman did, he wanted to make up stories, watch movies, tilt his head back to enjoy the sun-

Logan fell back as he collided with a larger body. He hissed as he hit the ground, jostling all of his bruises and cuts. His warmer thoughts cut off at the sight of the familiar boots in front of him, his heart sinking as his eyes traveled up the matrons body to lock on the worst person he could have run into at the moment.

"Well, well, well," Trumpbull clucked her tongue at him, and Logan's breath seized in his chest. He scrambled to remember if running was against the rules, and if it was one that Trumpbull felt the need to enforce. his thoughts fled as fast as he wished he could as he stood shakily to his feet, eyes dropping to the floor. "If it isn't young Logan. I assume I'm not wrong in thinking you're running off to see Mr. and.. Mr. Sanders."

Her nose wrinkled at the words. Her tone managed to convey the same emotion that Logan felt peeling something off the sidewalk, just with none of the underlying excitement and fascination in learning about it.

Logan dropped his eyes again, and shrugged. Fear kept his mouth shut, even when he wanted to yell at her. Wanted to stamp his foot and scream that they were better people then she would ever be. That at least they  _ could _ love someone other than themselves. But darkness pressed at him from the back of his eyes and Logan said nothing instead.

Trumpbull's hand landed on his shoulder, a weight he would never escape.

"I should hope you're not," Trumpbull said gently as she turned him back towards his room. "Seeing as they've made no requests to see you at the moment."

"You don't get a say in that," Logan managed to whisper, trying to dig his heels into the hardwood floor and sending a glance over his shoulder.

"Not only do I, but they've actually requested to see someone else today," Trumpbull said, her voice still as soft as before. "Someone a little less work I believe was the words they used. I hate to crush your spirits, but they've simply moved on. Or perhaps they've finally started to see what I knew all along. Ah well, we'll never know now seeing as they're likely never going to re-"

"No!" Logan shouted. He trembled under her hand, but even burdened by his fear, Logan tried to duck out of her grasp and run back the way she had came. The direction that Patton and Roman were in. "You're lying! They would never-!"

"Never give up on you like so many others," Trumpbull interrupted. She sounded like his last tutor from his last home. The one who told him that hope would only be crushed, that it was a fantasy and someone with Logan's brain had best be living in reality. "How many is it now Logan? Fourteen, no sixteen. Sixteen different families didn't want you."

Logan's eyes burned. He knew exactly how many people had given up on him, how many had did it because he scared them, because he had angered them, because he was too quiet, too short, too much work, too much and too little all at the same time.

"I would plan for the future young Logan. Seeing as you're going to be facing it alone," Trumpbull said with finality as they came to a stop in front of his room.

Logan blinked rapidly as she shoved him in. The door clicked shut behind her, and Logan reached up with a shaking hand to touch the place she had placed her hand on to drag him along. Everything ached. From his now bruised shoulder to his throbbing cuts, from his mind to his heart. 

He swiped at the tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he shuffled back to the window.

Trumpbull was- she had been- It was all lies. Patton had said that Logan was their son. Roman had told Logan that he loved him. They wouldn't just-

Logan sobbed at the window, hand reaching out for the book he had left laying there. He grabbed it, curling around the worn pages as if it were a stuffed animal made for comfort.

If he waited, they would come for him. They hadn't promised but they always had before. Trumpbull wasn't anything compared to them. Patton has almost yelled at her. Patton had stood up to her, with dark eyes and honey sweet words that Logan wanted to be able to wield one day. Happy, kind Patton had gotten  _ mad _ .

Which meant that he wasn't scared of Trumpbull.

But also meant that Logan didn't know him that well. Which meant that maybe Trumpbull could be right. Maybe Patton had gotten mad that Logan hadn't said anything about Trumpbull hating people like him.  Or maybe Patton would be mad that Logan hadn't helped stand up against Trumpbull. Maybe Patton just hated him now.

Logan sniffled; his grip on  _ The Ugly Duckling _ tightened. He leaned against the window, planting his forehead against the cool glass.

"He- he-he now felt glad at having suffered sorrow- sorrow and trouble, because it enabled him to enjoy so- so much better all the pleasure and happiness around him," Logan whispered to himself. It felt like such an empty line, except when Logan held onto it so tight he thought it might be enough to keep his cracked heart from bleeding out.

His breath and tears fogged up the glass and Logan leaned back to wipe it away. He took a shuddering breath, wiping at his own glasses as well. He leaned forward again, and felt sobs climb up his throat once more. Patton and Roman left the building below him; Roman's arms wrapped around Patton's shoulders.

They hadn't even said hello.

Logan pressed a hand to his face, wanting to slam his hands against the window, to catch their attention. He wanted to demand why they didn't just  _ tell _ him like everyone else. At least the others had the guts to say they didn't want him to his face.

One of the younger girls caught Patton's sleeve, and Logan turned away. He didn't want to try and make out the gentle smile that Patton had always directed at him, now given to someone else. He didn't want to hear Roman laugh at something another child said. Logan sobbed, looking down at the book on his lap.

The grown swan, happy and accepted, mocked him. Logan's breathed deeply, and felt his heartbreak shatter into shards of anger. He hurled the book as hard as he could at the wall. It hit with a heavy thunk, falling to the floor with a flutter of papers.

Logan pressed his hands to his face, sobbing even hard. He didn't care for once about the papers being bent out of shape. He didn't care if someone heard or saw him. He almost wanted someone to come in, to have an excuse to shout all that he wanted to scream at the world. He peeled his hands from his face and glared at the book lying awkwardly on the floor.

He staggered to his feet and snatched it from the ground. He gripped the pages, breathing hard as he tensed, ready to tear the whole stupid thing apart. To tear the lies and the hope and the future apart until it reflected his heart.

The slightest tear echoed through the empty room, and Logan sobbed again.

He couldn't do it.

He glanced around, head turning wildly before landing on his bed. He strode over to his, bending down to reach under the rickety frame and shoved the book back as far as he could. It thumped against the back wall, and Logan wriggled out as fast as he could. 

It was stupid. He was stupid. His whole life was a stupid, messy, unwanted thing, just like him.

Logan felt his spine press against the bed frame as he didn't bother to get up from where he was. Dust floated from his hair into his eyes as he shook, and that was the only reason he cried. Because he had other things to worry about than a pair of dumb mean morons who didn't want him.

Like making sure no one would ever hurt him this way ever again. Logan hated them. He hated himself. But most of all, he hated emotions. They didn't make sense and he never wanted to feel another one again.

Never again.

* * *

 

Ana Marie narrowed her eyes at the mirror, smacking her lips. She hummed before reaching down and wiping the lips stick on her face off. It wasn't quite the shade of red she wanted to match her dress. Her fingers hovered over the selection on her counter before plucking a darker shade from its place. She leaned forward and applied it carefully, judging the difference carefully.

She settled back, eyeing her eyeliner and contouring before deciding that she looked as flawless as she could make herself. Ana Marie ran a hand over her chin, checking for any left over peach fuzz or shadow. She let out a deep breath when she found none. 

Her lips quirked up in the mirror at the sight she made, and Ana Marie reached out to put on the business coat that matched her dress. She smoothed down the fabric and reached for her phone. Her notifications buzzed with possible cases from her boss, replies from the other lawyers at her firm, and texts from the rest of her family.

She scrolled through them as she strode out of her bathroom, nudging the door closed with the stiletto heels that she wore. Linda wanted advice on gender confusion and Mother wanted her to check up on Patton again. Ana Marie made a note to herself to visit her little brother once she had finished the appeal that she needed to do that day, on top of preparing for the current case she was on.

Ana Marie paused just long enough to pull up her calendar app. A quick flick of her finger checked off the Thursday that had passed. She slung her purse over her shoulder, adding another reminder for Roman's play that weekend, and eyed the note she had only added a couple days ago.

She had  _ told _ Patton not to go to the group home alone, but there was something about this Logan kid that had turned her little brother into a stubborn bulldozer. That was usually Roman's job. It wasn't a bad look on Patton, but when it left her brother in tears every night, Ana Marie felt a need to step in and do something to stop it. Big sister's prerogative and all that.

Honestly, she would have preferred if they just chose a different kid altogether.

If this was any sort of signal it said that Logan wouldn't be easy to take care of. He came with problems attached, and the last thing either of her little bros needed was more trouble.

She sighed, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. But it wasn't her choice to make.

Ana Marie locked her door, rattling the doorknob to make sure that she had done it correctly and that it would stay that way. Satisfied, she made her way to the elevator that would take her to the garage and her car. 

There was a group home that she needed to talk to. Professionally.

* * *

 

"Thank you for meeting with me," Ana Marie said smoothly, holding her hand out for the matron to take. Ms. Wilson looked a little pale at the sight of her but took the hand regardless. "It's my understanding that you had an altercation with my clients, and I'm here on their behalf to dispute that claim."

"Oh, yes of course Ms...?"

"Sanders," Ana Marie said smoothly, and quirked an eyebrow up as Ms. Wilson paled further. Interesting. Roman had been certain that there was only one matron who had been the problem, but it wouldn't be the first time he was wrong either. Ana Marie would keep an eye on it.

Ms. Wilson cleared her throat, "Well, Ms Wilson, I admit we never thought that it would get this serious but we do have a room prepared for you. The owner isn't here at the moment, but I'm hoping that we can handle the issue between ourselves first. There's no need to call him after all."

"I certainly hope so," Ana Marie agreed with a slight dip of her head. One of the kids ran past and Ana Marie tracked their path, wondering if she'd catch a glimpse of Logan during this visit. It wasn't her intention or plan at the moment, but finally putting a face to the name she had been hearing would he nice. "And I assume this room is secure?"

Ms. Wilson nodded.

"Excellent," Ana Marie said, falling in step next to the matron. She normally walked behind, but right now it seemed like Ms. Wilson would be nervous if Ana Marie loomed over her from behind. This was not the place for fear or anger. Not only would it be useless, but it would reflect badly on her abilities as a lawyer. "Now, as we head over, would you perhaps fill me in on the issue?"

Ms, Wilson shot her a startled glance, eyes darting upwards to meet Ana Marie's for a brief moment. "I thought you would already be aware of it?"

"I am," Ana Marie conceded, "But it's from my client's perspective and I find that in unofficial cases like these, having both stories, and sometimes even an outside one helps clarify things that were unclear before. It helps me come to a conclusion that allows both parties to be satisfied with."

Ana Marie took note of the way that Ma. Wilson's shoulders relaxed at the word 'unofficial'. Good. It meant that her problem was with the issue as a whole. Someone like that would be much easier to work with and Ana Marie bit back a pleased hum. It was likely they had someone pushing the issue from the inside enough that they simply needed an outside party to testify in order to allow Patton and Roman back into the facility.

Ana Marie could appreciate an easy case almost as much as she loved a challenge.

"Well, to my understanding, Mr. and Mr. Sanders were behaving in an unacceptable manner around the children. They have yelled at one of our workers, cussed around the children, and according to the matron that witnessed it, they were performing rather...inappropriate acts." Ms. Wilson coughed, and came to a stop in front of a door.

Another gaggle of children ran past, and Ms. Wilson watched them, a tired but fond look in her eyes. Her head tilted up to look at Ana Marie, and Ana Marie felt her lips quirk up into a smile at the look of fire she received.

"I understand that you have a job to do, but understand that I have one as well," Ms. Wilson said, shoulders thrown back in challenge. "I may not be mother material but there is nothing I wouldn't do for these children. And I can assure you that all of the matrons here would do the same. No matter what words you use or how you frame it, if I have the slightest thought that the Sanders would be a danger to these children then they're never going to set foot here again."

Ana Marie nodded again. "Understandable. It's a commendable commitment. I assure you, my clients mean no harm, and share the exact same sentiment as you. I am not here to attack your establishment or how you run it. We would just like to clarify the position of two men who hope very much to become fathers.”

Ms. Wilson looked her over again and Ana Marie straightened her back as best she could. The blemish of her foundation sprang to mind as well as the stretch marks that her dress didn’t quite cover. She resisted the urge to smooth down her top  and jacket over the marks her surgery had left her with, hoping that it wasn't obvious despite them being hidden by their placement already.

"Alright," Ms. Wilson agreed, her head coming down in a sharp nod before eyeing the door behind them. "And one question, if you don't mind me asking, for my own curiosity."

"Of course," Ana Marie said, knowing that building a rapport with the woman would make working things out easier. She had nothing against these women in particular.

"Your parents, where were they from? We don't get much diversity here I admit, and it's always something that interests the kids." Ana Marie did her best not to breath in sharply at the words. She bit down on the defensive retort that sprang to mind, smiling at the matron instead. Ms. Wilson didn't mean anything by it unlike others.

"Looking to entertain the children?" Ana Marie teased and grinned even wider at the sheepish look that crossed Ms. Wilson's face.

"Exactly that in fact," the matron admitted.

"Well, I'm afraid to disappoint, but my parents were American. Born and raised," Ana Marie said gently. "Both sets. My birth parents were of Persian descent but they lived and died here in America. My adopted mothers lived here as well, though Ma does miss her Latina family at times."

Ms Wilson's face softened, easing some of the exhausted wrinkles on her face. Ana Marie echoed the action, her worry about the meeting easing as Ms. Wilson spoke. "That's wonderful for you. Adoption into a family that they can be happy with, such as yours, is what I hope for with all the children here. And truth be told, when I heard about Mr. and Mr. Sanders I almost couldn't believe it. They were always so patient and kind with Logan, and well-"

Ms. Wilson cut herself off, and Ana Marie raised an eyebrow. Ms Wilson glanced down the hall and then at the door behind them.

"If I'm completely honest," Ms. Wilson said, "The fact that it was Ms. Trumpbull that brought it up is what concerns me. She doesn't quite connect with the kids, though she's a wonderful influence on them! They're always on their best behavior when she's around and with how understaffed we are it can seem like a miracle."

Ana Marie's lips thinned at the words, before she settled her face back into its bland professional mask. It wasn't the time for that, and she didn't have the authority to look into that situation in the first place. Appealing for visiting rights for family was one thing, and even then she was pushing the envelope on being professional with it.  Abuse of a family member, or hopefully-to-be-family-member would be leaping right off that line.

"Well, let's see if we can't get this sorted out," Ana Marie said smoothly, "Shall we get started?"

"Right yes of course!" Ms. Wilson chuckled sheepishly, "Look at us, getting distracted, right this way."

Ms. Wilson held the door open and Ana Marie took a deep steadying breath, giving in to the urge to smooth her dress down before striding into the meeting room with her head held high. 

For Patton, she would do this.

But even more so, for herself, Ana Marie would be the best lawyer she could be.

* * *

 

Roman grit his teeth, smoothing down the ruffles of his costume and trying to tilt his head back farther so that Lauren had better access to his face. He flinched as she pressed the eyeliner to his face again. Lauren frowned.

"You're too tense Ro," she chided, "You're needed at the doors in ten, and I need to get this done before then. It'll be thick but that's stage makeup and you know it." She grinned at him, "Come on, you know I don't need Rachel to show me up, and I would like some extra time to spend with Kai before the show starts."

Roman forced a grin, “Come now! Surely you know that your makeup game is the best in all the land! My deepest apologizes for making your job even harder than it already is.”   


Lauren giggled and tilted his face towards the light so she could go back to applying the eyeliner. “No need to apologise, Roman. You may not have told us everything, but we do know that you and Patton have been going through a rough time.”

Roman’s grin dropped and Lauren clucked her tongue. “Relax your face- yeah just like that, thank you. You don’t have to tell us anything that you don’t want to, but know that we’ll be here for you no matter what alright? Pirate crew forever!”   


Roman smiled weakly but softly at that. “I still insist that theater crew is cool enough on its own!”

“Yes well,” Lauren said breezily, setting the eyeliner down. She reached for the eye shadow neck and adjusted his face once more. “Seeing as Kai was voted the Expert of Being Cool last Christmas party, I think we have to concede to his expertise.”

“We only voted that way so he would think he was cool-!”

Roman choked as the brush Lauren was using froze dangerously close to his eye.

“Are you saying that my boyfriend isn’t cool?” Roman held his breath at the way that her voice didn’t change in tone or volume, a simple steady threat. “Because really Roman, Kai is the coolest, most capable, amazing person-”

“Alright, alright!” Roman conceded, bringing his hands up in surrender, “Kai is the coolest! ...person who isn’t in theater. And isn’t Patton. Because Patton is truly the sun and the stars the most beautiful, sweetest, patient person on this planet.”

Silence sat between them for a long moment before Roman snorted. They met each other eyes and burst into laughter. Lauren grinned brightly at him, “Agree to disagree. Kai’s the best person in the world and you’re never going to convince me otherwise.”   
  
“Ah, but you see,” Roman said grandly, “Patton is the best in the  _ universe _ .” 

Lauren let go of his face, staring at him intently for a moment before nodding to herself. “Alright you’re good to go!” She placed a hand on his shoulder, “And Roman? You’re a lucky man, to have someone like Patton in your life. Whatever you’re going through I hope you don’t forget that.”

Roman felt his face flush. He smiled, soft and loving. “Yeah,” he whispered, thinking about Patton’s grin and promise to be there for his performance, “I really am the luckiest.” 

He shook his head and stood up from the chair. “But come! We have a magnificent story to bring our adoring fans tonight! Our talents to be shared with a public who shall be blown away by how amazing we are!”

Lauren giggled, tucking all of her supplies away. “You’re heading for the door right? To collect the tickets? Do you mind if I come with, I want to meet Kai when he comes in. He said he’d come to watch how much my makeup skills have improved.”

“You two are adorable,” Roman declared, the cape of his costume swirling around his heels. Lauren handed him the plastic crown that finished his ensemble for the night. Fairy tales were his favorite to act out. He had gotten the lead role over Dillan again, to which Dillan had declared that Roman owed him some of Patton’s cookies for.

Lauren nudged his shoulder with her own. They walked out to the lobby together, and Roman waved grandly at the crowd already gathered there. He let the familiar act of falling into character wash over him as he greeted people, taking playbills from a stand to hand them out personally to people coming through the doors. 

He grinned at one of the younger kids who pointed at him in excitement, tugging at his mother’s pant leg. Roman waved at them, crouching down to hand the boy a playbill personally. He tried to ignore the way his heart twinged at the boy’s smile and the way that it reminded him of Logan. That wasn’t what he needed to focus on tonight.

“Oh,” the voice that echoed in Roman’s nightmares the past week said from above him, condescending and disgusted. “I should have expected one of your types to be here.”

Roman stood to his full height, meeting Trumpbull’s eyes as she glared at him. The old familiar fear and shame squeezed his chest. A hand tugged on his cape and Roman’s eyes dropped to the small child staring at Trumpbull with wide eyes.

Roman’s eyes darted to the woman standing next to him, her lips in a thin line of disapproval and face pale. He threw his shoulders back and reminded himself that he was in character. That he  _ wasn’t _ Roman Sanders at the moment, and Prince Edward had nothing to fear from this woman. That Prince Edward had an heir standing next to him who needed guidance.

“You mean the Theater is only for the gays?" Roman gasped, hand coming up in the most dramatic motion he can make, "You must be right! The gays are taking all of the good things in life! I'm just furthering the queer agenda! Because I'm gay!"

His confidence grew at the scattered giggles and laughter that the other bystanders in the lobby produced at his words. He knew his audience, but more importantly he knew the surrounding community and they had never been less than welcoming to him and Patton. He winked at Lauren, who was making her way through the crowd towards them, Kai at her side.

“How dare-!” Trumpbull started and Roman was reminded of Umbridge from  _ Harry Potter _ in the split second before he cut her off.

"Please forgive my gay rudeness, that comes from me being homosexual. To be confused with homosapien, or wait you don’t believe they’re the same. But I have to usher you  _ gays _ \- sorry I meant guys, along. Our very, very, gay production is about to start." Roman waved at the entrance grandly, reveling in the way that the kid at his side burst into peals of giggles. Kai nodded at him, a proud smug smirk crossing the man’s face.

Trumpbull’s face darkened to an angry red, and then the most satisfying shade of ugly puce Roman had ever seen. Adrenaline coursed through him, as well as a reckless satisfaction that made him want to reach out and pinch her cheeks condescendingly. He wouldn’t want to catch her “straight-ness” though, so he refrained.

Lauren laid a hand on his shoulder as she finally made her way to his side. Kai waved at him, more of a flop of the wrist than anything else. And looking more entertained now than he ever had been during one of their shows. 

Trumpbull hissed at him, and Roman wondered if a quip about her being a cat would be taking it too far.

“Your type should  _ never _ be parents.” An iron rod slammed down Roman’s spine, and any amusement he felt drained from his body. Almost as fast as the blood drained from his face. “All you do is corrupt them, lead to more disrespect and unhappiness and  _ sin  _ than anyone else.”

“Hey  _ bitch- _ ” Kai started with a scowl. 

Trumpbull threaded her fingers together and spoke over Kai, “I’m going to make sure of that. You won’t be leading young Logan down the wrong path any longer. You’re never going to see him again–” 

Roman had never been good at thinking things through. He reacted with his emotions rather than his logic, and it had only endeared him to Patton even more. It was what made his acting so visceral and realistic. 

Roman punched her.  

He stepped forward, leading with his dominant foot. He put his whole weight and back into the action. A complete follow through just as Ana Marie had taught him. 

His hand ached, and he worried more about whether he might have broken a knuckle on her eye and cheek bones than the way that the woman crumpled to the ground. He watched with dark eyes as she hit the floor, red blooming on the left side of her face like a rose in bloom. Roman thought it was almost just as beautiful. Shame about the plot it was planted in though.

He bared his teeth as he took another step forward, crown crooked on his head from the force of the punch he had thrown. Anger coursed through him. Bitter and dark between his teeth, and all he wanted to do was make her feel the  _ pain _ . The same pain that came with a husband that still hadn’t stopped crying. The pain that came from years of shame dredged to the surface.

The same pain that she had brought to them, repaid tenfold.

Only there were arms on his, yanking him back before he could get too close.

“Woah man. She’s not worth it Roman.  _ Roman _ , let it  _ go _ .” Dillan pulled back on his arm again, and Roman blinked. He shook his head. “It  _ is _ , come on, man. You’ll scare the kids.”

Roman nodded, breathing deeply through his nose. He pulled his arm from Dillan’s grip, smoothing down the front of his costume and readjusting the crown on his head. The anger still sat heavy against his chest, but he tried to breath it out with every exhale. Even then though, no matter what Dillan said.

Roman bared his teeth in something that could almost be called a smile, dark anger and even darker satisfaction. 

It was  _ worth _ it.


	8. Not Every Card's A Trump Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait y'all! Life's been busy so I've had to drop the consistent schedule for updating :p Until things calm down, I'm afraid chapters will just go up after they've been completed. I usually give updates on my [tumblr](https://thesocialbookwormwrites.tumblr.com/) if you want more information! There is also a [Discord chat](https://discord.gg/FGkHaf) now, if you want to come scream at me
> 
> In other news! Huge thanks to wisepuma23 as always for being an awesome Alpha! and my-happy-little-bean for being best beta!

The lobby stood silent. Roman just breathed for a long moment, glaring down at Ms. Trumpbull. Dillan's hand still touched his arm lightly, and it was only years of working with the man that kept Roman from shrugging it off in his anger. Lauren's hand covered her mouth, Kai on the other hand looked darkly satisfied about the outcome.  
  
"Assault!" Trumpbull screeched, breaking the silence. "This is assault! How dare-!"  
  
She took a step towards Roman, who bared his teeth, more than ready to accept her challenge to throw down. Dillan's hand on arm increased in pressure before Dillan moved to stand in front of him. Roman breathed deeply, staring at Dillan's dreadlocks rather than the accursed woman.  
  
"Hey, hey, let's all calm down," Dillan suggested. Roman couldn't see it but he knew the mild smile that would be on Dillan's face. One that wouldn't quite reach the anger in his eye. "We wouldn't want the manager to get involved."  
  
Kai snickered from Roman's left. "Oh, please. Let's get that bastard involved with the bitch. You could sell tickets for the ensuing cat fight."  
  
Lauren elbowed him in the side. Roman felt some of the anger and stress flow off of his shoulders at the familiar banter. No matter what came of this, his theater crew- apologies Kai- Pirate Crew would have his back. Kai smirked at Roman, and Roman felt his lips twitch into a real smile at the action.  
  
"No!" Trumpbull shouted. "Let's _do_ get the manager involved! I _demand_ to speak with the imbecile in charge of a circus like this!” She pulled herself up to her full height and her arms clawed through the air, not so different from the dragon he had compared her to once. “How _dare_ you speak to me like that, boy! How disrespectful! Who’s in charge of this place? I demand to speak with him!"  
  
Roman could see the tension along Dillan's back at her words. His blood boiled, and it took all he had not to snap back at the woman. He could get away with so much more than Dillan and Roman knew that. He had already taken advantage of that already. Violence now could get _Dillan_ in trouble. That and Rebecca's arm ghosting over his right arm as she entered the scene held him back.  
  
"Dillan," Rebecca said softly, "Larry wants to know why he's missing half his cast with only fifteen minutes until opening curtains."  
  
Dillan didn't look away from Trumpbull. He swept his hands out in a 'look here' gesture.

"Well we have a rather rowdy audience member," he said in the same smooth tone. "She wants to see the _manager_ of 'this circus' is how she put it?"  
  
"Ah," Rebecca said. Her shoulders straightened as she turned to face Trumpbull. “I am a manager. What can I do for you tonight?”

“You?” Trumpbull screeched. Her eyes racked down Rebecca, catching on her hijab. Roman’s eyes flickered between the two women. “ _You’re_ a manager? No wonder this trash heap is falling apart if someone like _you_ is in charge.”

Rebecca quirked an eyebrow up and Roman heard Dillan whisper from next to him,  "Oh shit. Don't forget to leave something to bury 'Becca."

"Not the manager I was thinking of, but tear her to fucking pieces Rebecca!" Kai shouted, crossing his arm. Lauren hissed something at him; Roman couldn't catch it through his pounding heartbeat. Dillan reach down to grip his wrist and Roman almost wanted to cry.

He hadn't meant for this to happen. He should have been able to control himself. It had been years since he lashed out at anyone, and god, Patton was going to be so disappointed in him. They were never going to let them see Logan again. Any progress they made was chucked right into the bin because Roman couldn't hold his emotions back for a full stupid thirty seconds.

"I have to ask you to refer to this work space and the employees that work here with respect ma'am," Rebecca's calm voice cut through his thoughts. Her eyes flickered over to him for a moment before returning to Trumpbull, "We accept people of all walks of life here, being a _community_ theater. I am more than happy to speak to you about your complaints, but if you continue to yell I will have to ask you to leave the premise."

Rebecca paused, a shark scenting blood in the water. "There are children present after all."

Trumpbull's heavy breathing echoed through their lobby. One brave man inched past her with a look of contempt as he went to his seat. Her hands opened and closed into fists and Roman tensed up again. If she attacked Rebecca then he wouldn't be held responsible for his actions.

Rebecca, on the other hand, looked unruffled by the threatening actions. She stood her ground, waiting for Trumpbull to speak.

"Your employee–” Ms. Trumpbell shot a sharp glare at Roman– “ _assaulted_ me. I _demand_ that he be dismissed on the spot for this transgression!" Roman thought he could hear her teeth grind from the way Trumpbull growled out her words. She pointed at him and he stiffened.

"He attacked me out of nowhere, and having such a violent individual on the premise has to be a danger to your customers!"  
  
Rebecca nodded, and Roman's heart sank.  
  
"You have a point," Rebecca said steadily. "And we do have procedure for dangerous individuals." She turned, winked at Roman and then addressed-

"Kai, could you, perhaps, tell me what happened here?"  
  
"Excuse me-!" Trumpbull's screeched, and Rebecca turned back to look at her with a hard stare. Trumpbull's jaw clenched in frustration but her volume dropped. "Are you saying that my word isn't good enough for you?"  
  
Rebecca waved her hand in a soothing motion.  
  
"I am simply getting the full story," she said, her eyes glittering with something fierce and steady. Roman had seen that look directed at him once. He tried not to let it ever happen again. "We wouldn't want there to be a misunderstanding, would we?"  
  
Trumpbull whole body shook, and it took everything Roman had not to step in front of Rebecca. He trusted that she could take care of herself, but he was never quite satisfied with that. Not when Rebecca and Dillan tended to walk home together for safety, and not when Trumpbull looked ready to throttle someone.

“No,” Trumpbull gritted out. “No, we wouldn’t.”

Rebecca nodded sharply and turned back to Kai. He looked over the scene with lidded eyes, a cat having found the perfect moment to pounce.

“I have no fucking clue what the bitch is going on about,” Kai said lazily. “All I saw Roman do was make a bomb-ass kid’s night with Lauren’s makeup.”

“I would say it was more than the makeup,” Lauren said with a grin. She nudged his side before threading her fingers through his. Roman stared at the two of them, confused, but heart fit for bursting anyways. “Just because you refuse to acknowledge their acting doesn’t mean it’s not here.”

“So you didn’t see anything?” Rebecca pressed.

“Will it get you off my ass if I say I did?” Kai asked dryly. Rebecca shot him a hard look before turning to Dillan, who leaned into Roman’s side. Fuck, what did he do to deserve friends like these? Dillan clearly didn’t need any more prompting from Rebecca, opening his mouth right away.

“I came in later, but all I know is that Ro’ was upset. He’s a chill gay- I mean guy, you know that ‘Becca. Anything that can get him riled up isn’t good in my books.” He waved his free hand, face incredible steady for what Roman knew was a bald faced lie. Roman got worked up over everything and everyone. “I just wanted to defuse the situation because high emotions can lead to bad acting.”

Rebecca stared at them all for a long moment, and Roman could have sworn that her lips twitched upwards before settling back into her smooth unworried expression. She turned back to Trumpbull.

“Unless you can find someone to collaborate on your story, ma’am, I am inclined to believe that you are making things up in order to harass one of our employees,” Rebecca said, hands folded in front of her. “Which, I should point out, is grounds for us to remove you from the premises.”

Trumpbull gapped at them, mouth opening and closing as her face turned back to an angry red. She pointed at Kai with a shaking finger, then Dillan, then Roman, and then back to Kai. Roman wondered if her head was literally going to explode.

“You’re all lying!” She shouted, eyes wild. “Slander! They want to slander me with these lies! It’s all a conspiracy! You just want- want to attack me because you think that _he_ -” She jabbed her finger at Roman again- “is an actual decent person! He’s a monster! A- a- a-”

She cast her eyes about, skittering away from their stone cold faces. Roman fought against the urge to bite his lips. The Crew would support him no matter what, but he didn’t know about the audience. They could fall either way.

Then, very quietly, from his side, the mother of the boy he had been talking too spoke up.

“Excuse me? Ms, uh, manager, ma’am?” The woman stiffened as all eyes turned on her, but she threw back her shoulders. “He was only talking to us when she came up to harass him. I didn’t see anything… _untoward_ happen to her, only to him.”

Rebecca smiled at the woman, as an agreement rippled through the remaining crowd. Roman’s chest ached as he caught sight of the mother’s gentle smile, and he looked away before he did something embarrassing like burst into tears then and there. He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t this.

“Then that it is all I need to know,” Rebecca said gently. She turned to frown at Trumpbull, steel in her eyes. “We don’t welcome people like you here. Please vacate the premises before we are forced to take drastic actions, such as calling the police.”

Trumpbull stared at them all. Roman’s shoulders crept upwards the longer that Rebecca stared her down and the matron didn’t move. Trumpbull sent him one last nasty glare, her black eye just starting to turn purple before turning on her heels and storming out of the building.

“Please let the door hit your ass on the way out!” Kai shouted after her, and Lauren snickered. Dillan’s hand slipped down to grip Roman’s. Roman could see Patton hurrying towards them through the crowd, worry clear on his face. Rebecca tsked under her breath.

“Such an unpleasant woman. I hope there isn’t anyone like that at Daliah’s new school.”

“Yeah, let’s hope so,” Roman agreed through his tight throat. Rebecca grinned at him, fleeting and bright before clapping her hands together.

“Five minutes to curtains, let’s get a move on actors!”

Patton threw himself into Roman’s arms. Roman pulled him tight against his chest. He buried his face in Patton's hair, taking comfort in the familiar scent and feel. He would have loved to stand there with Patton forever, but it was almost curtains.

“I have something to tell you,” Patton said quickly as Roman pulled back. He hesitated.

“Later,” he said, gesturing to the stage. “I have to-”

Patton squeezed his hands. Bright eyes searched his own. Patton gave him the sweetest smile before nodding.

“Later then.”

* * *

Logan tried to enjoy the more relaxed atmosphere that was around the group home that night. Trumpbull had gone to do something on her day off and the relief of the other children was an almost physical thing. Logan wanted to enjoy it like they did. He wanted to read his book in true peace while he had the chance.

Only his peace had been shattered and Logan wanted nothing more than to scream. Scream or cry, he wasn't sure quite yet. He wouldn't. He refused. He wasn't going to let anyone, let alone an adult, control his heart. He struggled to keep his attention on the book in front of him, shoving thoughts of Pat- adults away.

His eyes scanned over the words, not quite processing them. He stared at the picture of a family before shaking his head violently. He slammed the book shut, glaring at the far wall. Shrieks and shouts from the other room drifted through his open window. He didn’t need a family. He didn’t need anyone.

Logan stood up stiffly, and shoved the book back onto the shelf. He winced at the soft thunk and ran a finger over the spine in quiet apology. It wasn’t the book’s fault. He probably shouldn’t have been reading a fantasy based plot anyways. _Tuck Everlasting_ was nice, but wouldn’t help him in the future. He needed to set aside fiction to be the best he could be.

Logan would need it to get out of here as soon as he could.

He swayed towards the wind that blew through the window. His eyes drifted to the flag that he knew marked the local school. Only a month and a half until he could return to the only place that felt marginally safe in his life. He would impress whatever new teachers he had and maybe, just _maybe_ he would be able to get them to move him up another grade.

Logan leaned against the windowsill. He tried not to put too much weight on his cut arms. They had only just reached the point he didn’t need to bandage them anymore, and he would rather not have to come up with an excuse for more. The stock that he kept stashed in the back of his closet was starting to run a little low. Logan made a mental note to make his way to the nurse to swipe a few more when he had the chance. It was better to be prepared than to be caught off guard and have to come up with an excuse as to what had happened.

He closed his eyes and let the breeze ruffle his hair. His shoulders felt tight enough to snap, but Logan was determined to at least enjoy the last of the time without Trumpbull before she came back. He needed to center himself, to be ready for whatever came next.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled, raising as a heavy weight settled on his chest. Logan opened his eyes, and he blinked, looking around for the source of his discomfort. His eyes landed on the subject of his thoughts, Trumpbull, glaring at the window he was in before storming into the group home.

The hair on his arms joined his neck in standing up straight. Logan shivered, wrapping his arms around his chest. He took a shuddering breath, hoping that she wouldn’t come up to find him. It wasn’t likely; it was foolish to expect anything else, but Logan wasn’t _ready_. He frantically wracked his brain, searching for what he could have done to set her off.

He had time to hide. The thought was a selfish dangerous one. She could end up even angrier at him for avoiding her. She could take her anger out on a different child who would turn the rest of the home against him. She could find him and punish him for avoiding what he had done to avoid discipline.

The closet taunted him.

Logan whimpered, biting down on his lips. So much for ignoring his feelings. He could feel the pounding of his heart beat against his chest, the way that his hands twisted in his sleeves to keep from shaking. He didn’t know what he had done wrong.

He _didn’t know._

Logan hated not knowing. Power was knowledge, and power kept him safe. Knowledge and learning kept him safe. If he knew her habits, he could avoid the worst of her. If he knew what set her off, he could brace himself every time he broke one of her rules. If he _knew_ , then he could act.

Logan felt his shaking increase. He hadn’t spoken back to her. He hadn’t sasses another matron, hadn’t been with anyone so he couldn’t have failed to live up to her expectations. His nails dug into his arm. He had done his chores. He had kept curfew and had put all books away at the time she had wanted him too. He had followed all her rules to the letter.

The shouts from the room over fell silent. Logan could hear the footsteps approaching his room. He backed up, shoulder slamming against the open window. He flinched and scrambled to close it. His fingers fumbled at the latch, his brain screaming at him that he was taking too long, he was taking too long, _he was taking too long-_

The window fell shut with a click. The door knob rattled. Logan struggled to swallow, his heart pounding in his ears.

The door slammed against the wall; the only noise along the entire hall. It echoed in Logan’s ears as his eyes zeroed in on Trumpbull. He couldn’t feel his fingers twisted in his sleeves. He could see the way her chest heaved. He bit his lip. He traced the way her hands flexed.

He couldn’t breathe.

Logan waited for the usual mocking words, the ones that would let him know what he had done wrong. He would be able to go from there. He braced himself, digging his nails into his arms until the cuts hidden there stung. His eyes caught on the bruise that bloomed blue and purple across her cheek into her eye.

He only had a moment to wonder what had happened before his head snapped to the side.

Logan could feel the heat bloom on his cheek from the slap. His hand flew to the spot in surprise as he stared at Trumpbull with wide eyes. Her face twisted, her eyes glittered with anger, and Logan’s feet tingled with nerves. She hadn’t said anything.

She had _never_ hurt him without telling him why first.

Trumpbull wanted to feel like she could teach him to be better. She never shut up about how it was for his own good. Logan had taken comfort in the fact he could predict her most days because of how much she ran her mouth. He had thought silence would be a good thing. He would have thought it meant he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Terror crept into his chest and made its home there. He couldn’t stop his shoulders from trembling. He tried to shuffle a step back to give himself time to put his scattering thoughts together. His heel bumped against the bed frame. The bed rattled, just enough to draw attention, and Logan closed his eyes in horrified resignation.

The taunts he expected didn’t arise. Her hand snapped out, wrapping around the hand still cradling his face. She wrenched it away and Logan tripped over himself as she dragged him towards the door. He twisted in her grip. His skin pinched at the action, and Logan felt tears gather at the edges of his eyes. He couldn’t fight her, not really, but it gave him a false comfort to try.

He hiccuped, trying to hold his sobs back. Trumpbull shot him a glare. Logan brought his free hand up to try and muffle the sounds he was making. He hoped that one of the other matrons came to check on him. They never had before – not when he had proven to be perfectly independent on his own – but the terror making itself known in his chest cried for the opposite.

Her nails dug into his wrist. Their footsteps echoed in the halls. Logan thought he caught sight of some of the other kids scrambling to get out of sight. One almost met his eyes before slamming the door shut. Logan wanted to blame them. But he would have done the same in their place.

He squeezed his eyes shut as Trumpbull dragged him towards the basement. She yanked at his arm. He yelped at the pain, eyes snapping back open as he tried to keep from falling over.

Logan stared at the door to the basement, biting back sobs as she hurled it open. The doorknob hit the wall with a deafening rattle. Logan shrunk back. He didn’t know what he had done wrong. He didn’t know what to expect.  

She yanked on his arm again, pulling him towards the gaping darkness. He tripped over his feet trying to follow the path she wanted. He reached out with his free hand for the rail.

Later, much later, Logan would guess that Trumpbull simply wanted him to hurry up. At least, that’s what he would always want to believe. That she hadn’t thought about what her action could cause. Even in his worst times, he didn’t want to contemplate the worst of that moment.

Trumpbull let go of his wrist. Logan took a single step down the stairs. A large hand pressed against his back and _shoved_.

The world spun on an axis; Logan had read that in a book, had learned that in a science class. He couldn’t keep track of which way it spun anymore as his fell. His heart leapt as his hands snapped out in an attempt to catch himself. He felt something crack as his right wrist hit the first stair. The air knocked out of his lungs from the pain, leaving him unable to scream.

His feet flew over his head. His hand flew out, scraping against the wall as he tried to grab the rail. Fire bloomed along his fingertips. Distantly, he saw the flecks of blood he left behind.

A crack rung through his head. The world exploded into the stars. Logan curled into himself. His good arm coming up to protect his head as he rag-dolled down the rest of the stairs. His stomach twisted, and Logan had to fight down the urge to throw up as he slammed against the door at the bottom of the stairs.

His shoulders shook, and the smallest motion sent sparks up his arm and head. He sobbed, curling even more, until he was the smallest ball he could manage. He cradled one hand to his chest while the other covered his head. Blood dripped down his temple and Logan tasted tears on his lips.

Trumpbull’s calm steps down the stairs echoed in his head, doubling and tripling like his sight. He watched her descend with growing horror. The fire in her eye hadn’t dampened in the slightest. That, at least, he knew. She wasn’t done yet.

He couldn’t force himself to move.

“You could have killed me,” he whispered, the sound almost non-existent, a simple movement of his lips. “I could have _died_.”

Trumpbull leaned over him. The door to the basement unlocked with a soft click. Everything in Logan screamed as she stepped over him, calm as her normal days. He thought that he had seen the worst of her. He had thought that he would finally escape, that Patton and Roman would take him away.

Her hands reached down for him, and Logan tried to stop thinking at all.

* * *

It was warm. The summer stars shone overhead and Logan traced constellations against the window. A paradox of something that felt completely natural to do, almost mindless, and something that he needed to think about in order to make sure he got them right. Hercules, Libra, Big Dipper, Little Dipper.

He hissed as his left arm jostled his right. Pain radiated along the length of his arm and he curled into a tighter ball in an attempt to alleviate it. It wasn’t rational. It wouldn’t actually help. It was simply his body trying to protect his most vulnerable parts. The way his ribs ached with every breath declared that it had already failed at that.

He breathed, shallow and pained, squeezing his eyes shut until he could gather the energy to peel them back open. His hand shook as he turned back to tracing the constellations. If he wasn’t thinking about the way his arm had cracked against the wall when-

His breath shuddered. Logan glanced away from the window. He tugged his legs up to his chest carefully, biting down on his tongue as his ankle protested the movement. The crackling of his dried blood sounded all too loud in the silent entrance. But he could prop his right arm up against his legs, allowing his shoulders to finally relax.

Even if relax was a bit of a… hyperbole.

For all that Logan tried to occupy his mind, he still flinched at every noise. The crickets outside refused to fade to white noise. The wood of the group home groaned with the changing temperature. His ears strained as he thought he heard someone shuffling in their bed. His fingers on the window pressed down hard enough to turn white.

The cuts from the closet caught the moon light and Logan jerked his hand back. A sob caught in his throat. He brought his good hand up to scrub at his face. He winced as the action pulled at his black eye.

Logan didn't know _why._ Trumpbull _always_ had a reason, but he couldn’t _find it_. He couldn’t figure out why, after being so careful, she would hurt him so obviously. His ears rang, and bile clawed at his throat. His thoughts had scattered from the moment she had thrown him down the stairs and it had only gotten worse after-

He squeezed his eyes shut, banishing the thought before it could fully form. He already knew that shaking his head was a bad idea. Logan wondered if he should have read more about head injuries.

More tears welled in his eyes and he scrubbed even hard despite the pain. Tears only brought more pain. Logan’s breath stuttered in his chest, his ribs screaming in protest at the action. He shouldn’t cry. Crying only made things worse.

He pressed his hand against his face, struggling for control.

A single thought crept through his mind and Logan shied away from it on principle. Maybe Trumpbull was right. He bit down on his lip, shoulders shaking even more. He _hated_ the very idea of agreeing with her. She was a monster, inhuman, an alien, anything that lacked compassion and empathy.

\-- But where had compassion and empathy gotten him?

Anger flooded his chest, washing away his pain for a glorious moment. It wasn’t _fair_. He tried and tried and tried. If he was too smart, they hated him. If he was too dumb, they hated him. Too loud, too quiet, too unnerving, too normal. No matter what he did the world hated him. Well he was _done_.

They wouldn’t make him play their games anymore.

Not when it was such a _stupid_ one.

Logan’s hand dug into his chest. He didn’t want to feel anymore. Caring only got him hurt. Anger was useless when he couldn’t stand against the people who made him feel that way. Dreams were only his brain compressing memories from the day. Love only set him up for failure. There was no _rational_ reason to keep hoping. To keep extending his pain the way he had all this time.

The wood of the home creaked above him, and his anger fled. His shoulders slumped and he leaned his head back against the window frame. He closed his eyes and could imagine the gulf that he stood over. No one would catch him if he fell.

Fine then. He’d been catching himself this long.

He tipped over, letting his heart disappear into the void below. He wouldn’t need it anymore. From now on, Logan would focus on what was logical; on what made sense and could be predicted. He’d protect himself by getting rid of the reason he needed to be protected at all.

A door opened, squeaking with unoiled hinges. Logan's head snapped up, eyes scanning the hall for whoever would be approaching him. Trumpbull had never come back after her "discipline" but then again, she had always said something and she _hadn't_. It was reasonable to assume that with so many of her other habits, her own little rules broken, that she would break even more.  
  
Or it could be one of the other children.  
  
There was always one on the Bad Days.  
  
Logan's shoulders relaxed at the small footsteps, not heavy enough to be an adult. Which meant that he was safer -- not safe, never safe, but at least in no danger of getting hurt more -- until the morning. They only came to check on him once Trumpbull's snore started to echo down the halls.  
  
Logan turned to stare out the window, trying to come up with what he would tell them this time. The world had shattered beneath his feet. What could he possibly tell them to explain how different things were? Seeing was believing but Logan didn't think that they'd believe him even with the blood caked along his neck and temple.  
  
He'd always been the exception after all. The one that made Trumpbull's blood boil over no matter what he did. He was never going to be enough-  
  
Logan shoved the thought and the feelings that came with it back down. He wasn't going to feel anything any more. It didn't matter. He needed to focus on the coming days.  
  
A small head peered around the corner.  
  
"Logan?" Emmet whispered. He inched closer and Logan watched him dully. Emmet shuffled his feet, eyes glued more on the door than Logan himself.  
  
"You wouldn't make it far," Logan said dully, thinking about his own wish to run away. They were too young to not attract attention. Nine and eight. Someone would notice; someone would call the police for their reputation if nothing else.  
  
"O-oh," Emmet startled, eyes glancing wildly around the dark, "I was just- I mean, you know that-" Emmet drew up short and stared at him with wide eyes. His freckles stood out on his pale face. His whisper dropped to more of just his lips moving. "Are you alright?"  
  
Logan shrugged his shoulder, biting back a whimper as it moved his right arm. Emmet flinched at the noise, wringing his hands together.  
  
"Ri- Right, stupid question, uh, right, stay there,  I'll just-" Emmet spun on his heels and ran back into the hallways. Logan watched him go, blinking slowly. Because of course not even the other children could behave the way he expected them to. He had just about figured out what to say too.  
  
He leaned his head back again, listening to the flutter of a bird outside.  
  
Whispers echoed down the hall, overlapping the pattering of feet. Logan sighed. They would have been quieter coming in one by one. He wondered if they were even bothering to avoid the louder floorboards. Not that it mattered with the noise they were making already. If they were lucky, the matrons were as exhausted as they normally were and would sleep through it all.

Emmet's head reappeared, and he gestured at whoever was behind him before hurrying over to Logan. He hopped over the one floorboard that they all knew creaked too loud, landing lightly on his feet before stopping in front of Logan. He chewed on his lip; Logan stared at him dully before turning to the other.  
  
Amelia caught his attention immediately, whispering to one of the younger girls and adjusting the box she carried. Half a dozen kids spilled into the entrance and a familiar voice broke the near silence. Logan blinked.  
  
"So bookworm," Edgar snapped, stalking closer to him, "What's this about you finally getting the Bull to snap?"  
  
"Does it count as snapping if she's been on the edge for years?" Logan murmured, and blinked again at the silence that reigned. Logan glanced up as something flit through Edgar's eyes. Edgar sighed heavily, scrubbing at his hair.  
  
"Oh fuck you," Edgar said, flopping down to sit next to Logan. Close enough that Logan could feel his body heat but not quite touching. "I don't know why I bother with shit- don't look at me like that Sarah, a few curse words aren't gonna hurt the younger ones more than the Bull would."  
  
A couple of the kids giggled. Edgar cut a glance at Logan, who stared back at him. Edgar sighed and Logan wondered why he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck bookworm, at least tell me that you learned something _useful_ while being beat to all hell and back."  
  
"No," Logan replied.  
  
Everyone froze. Edgar's teeth grit almost audibly. Logan idly hoped that his teeth would crack from the force of it before reminding himself that hope went nowhere. Statistically though, grinding teeth ended in damage, and Logan let his mind drift in that direction. Someone snapped their fingers near his face and Logan jerked back.  
  
"Hey Ed, I don't know if now's the best time-" Amelia started to say. Logan's eyes drifted from Edgar's hand to Amelia's face. She clutched the box in her hand tightly, knuckles an almost glowing white in the dark.  
  
"If we don't talk to him now, he won't remember anything in the morning," Edgar snapped. " _He_ may not have the sense to stay on the Bull's good side, but I'm not going to be the reason more kids end up like him!"  
  
"You might not have a choice," Logan whispered. Edgar's head whipped in his direction.  
  
" _What_ did you just say?" Edgar demanded.  
  
Logan's body trembled, and he tried to will it to stop. His control slipped from his fingers, his attempts to not think about what had happened falling through his barricades like sand. The whispers of the other kids sounded too distant and unreal. They didn't understand. They _couldn't_ understand.  
  
Their reality was about to get so much worse.  
  
"I said," Logan croaked out, "you might not have a choice."  
  
"Bullshit," Edgar snapped. Logan leaned back as Edgar leaned in even closer. Edgar's eyes looked him over, slowly almost like he cared which Logan knew was a lie. He was like a book to Edgar. Useful for his knowledge and nothing more. Edgar scrubbed at his face again. "Let's just get this over with, bookworm. The faster you talk, the faster the others can feel good about themselves by wrapping you up like a mummy."  
  
"There isn't anything to say," Logan said simply, and plowed forward when Edgar opened his mouth again. " _She_ certainly didn't say anything." His trembling worsened. "She didn't say _anything_. I don't know- I don't- I didn't do _anything_ -"

He sucked in a sharp breath and ignored the clattering of Amelia's box falling to the ground. He shoved his emotions back into a small box. He could control himself. He chucked the box at a metaphorical wall and let his voice fall back into a near monotone.  
  
"She's not following her own rules." Edgar's eyes pierced through the dark, intent and determined at Logan’s words. "It's like she's so _mad_ that she just doesn't care anymore. There- There's no more cheats or shortcuts. She doesn't- doesn't _care_."  
  
Logan's good hand snapped out to grip Edgar's arm, willing the older boy to understand.  
  
"There are no rules anymore."


	9. Not Every Card's A Trump Part 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo gays! New chapter out, and the next one will be following in the next couple of days, seeing as it's over half done already ;) (That way you can't murder me for how this one ends)
> 
> Huge thanks to best alpha wisepuma23 and best beta my-happy-little-bean! If you haven't seen their works you really should!! They're absolutely amazing!
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy!

Logan winced as Amelia prodded at his ankle. Emmet hovered over the scene, wringing his hands and glancing at the door every so often. Logan wondered why they had picked him as watch when Emmet could barely hold himself together.

“Stay still,” one of the other girls hissed. “You'll get stabbed in the eye if you move like that.”

She waited until Logan nodded before nodding back. She dipped the small brush in her hand into the box of makeup and gripped his chin gently. The bristles ran across his cheek and Logan fought back a sneeze. They couldn't leave him looking like this; yet despite knowing that, Logan wondered if it was the best course.

How could they explain everything?

“I don’t think it’s broken,” Amelia whispered, letting go of Logan’s ankle. She looked up at Edward, eyes skittering over the bruises and cut skin of Logan’s leg. “But I don't think he should walk on it?”

“You sure?” Edgar asked, leaning over her shoulder. Logan watched him frown, and wondered if he should be offended that Edgar was more focused on Amelia than him. Then again, Edgar was almost always more focused on someone other than Logan. It wasn’t anything new.

“No, I'm not sure!” Amelia said with a scowl. She leaned away from Logan. She crossed her arm, looking up at Edgar from her spot on the floor. “I'm not a doctor, Ed! I've just seen some TV shows about injuries.”

Logan blinked and muttered, “If it's sprained, it depends on the severity of the sprain. It should be wrapped for support and some sprains can actually be worse than broken-”

“I didn't ask you bookworm,” Edgar snapped. Logan stared at him. The silence hung in the air like a vase teetering on the edge of a counter. Logan opened his mouth to ask Edgar if he was serious before closing it once more. It wasn’t his fault if they wanted to be morons. Logan would take care of himself just fine.

He ignored the unease that skittered down his spine; the gentle reminder that things weren’t the same.

“Um–” Emmet’s voice stumbled through the silence. He winced as all eyes turned to him, and he stared at the ground. “If- I mean- I think- If Logan thinks that he knows something isn’t- isn’t that better than not knowing? For- For this at least, I mean-” He trailed off and shuffled his feet.

Logan blinked. He watched the embarrassed red climb up Emmet’s face and ears. The night chill seemed easier to handle even if he didn't understand. No one stood up for him. Aside from Pat- No one stood up for him, ever. He was on his own here, and that was the way it was. He knew what he needed to do to be heard and this wasn't it.

Logan wished people would stop acting strange.

He already missed being able to predict things.

Edgar glared at Emmet, but his eyes softened as Emmet cringed away from the look. The way Edgar scrubbed at his hair reminded Logan of some of the shows the matrons would let them put on if they were good enough for the day. He wouldn't be surprised if Edgar had copied one of the characters. Not if they were cool.

"Fine," Edgar said, pointing at Emmet and then shoving the finger in Logan's face. Logan's eyes crossed, trying to follow the action. He didn't get what the point of the action was, and frustration stirred in his chest before Logan shoved it back down. Pack it all away, he reminded himself.

"Fine!" Edgar repeated, "Do your annoying ramble-y thing that makes us all feel bad about how we didn't know whatever the hell you do, and then we go back to the way things were, alright?!"

"Ed-" Amelia's voice took on a warning tone and Logan clenched his jaw. He didn't want to make people feel bad. He had rambled the first few days he had been in the group home, hoping they would enjoy the facts as much as he did. But they didn’t.

He had learned long ago that intentions didn't matter, only results.

Trumpbull wanted well behaved children, and she got them. No one else bothered to question why. Logan made people feel bad by being himself; it didn't matter that he didn't mean to. The ends justified the means.

"What?" Edgar snapped, snapping Logan back to the reality of the situation. Amelia's eyes darkened and she stood up, the two pre-teens matching in height. Emmet shrunk back from the two of them and Logan was inclined to agree. Amelia and Edgar didn't fight.

Logan glanced briefly at the window. The sky wasn't falling. Too bad, it would have made a good reason to explain everything as well as let Logan know he wouldn't have to deal with it.

He just wanted to go to bed.

"What?" Amelia repeated, " _What?_ Are you even listening to yourself you- you- you-!"

"Awwww, can Amelia not swear like the big kids? Not gonna call me a bastard like the grown ups do?" Edgar mocked, and stumbled back as Amelia's hands planted on his shoulders and _shoved_.

“You _jerk!_ ” Amelia shrieked, the sound echoing down the halls. Logan reached up to rub at his forehead. He desperately hoped that when, not if, _when_ they woke someone up it wasn't Trumpbull. He startled as Amelia pointed at him too. "He's _hurt_! And not like, bumps and bruises hurt! He needs help, and you're still standing around mocking him!"

Edgar sputtered, hands clenching into fists. "You mock him too!"

"At least I have the heart not to do it when he's been beaten, you heartless- heartless- god you heartless pig!" Amelia shouted, throwing her hands in the air. "It's one thing to bully him when he's standing tall-" Logan debated correcting her on him ever standing like that when he could barely reach her shoulder- "but it's another when he's got a broken ankle!"

"Sprained," Logan muttered under his breath. The girl standing next to him giggled, and he turned to blink at her. She shrugged. Maybe they were all in shock. They all seemed pale enough in the moonlight for it. Logan thought back on how to treat shock. He was pretty sure it had something to do with blankets and sugar? He couldn't remember, but he doubted the group home had enough for them all.

Edgar's eyes turned on him and Logan glanced away. He focused on the way his thin shirt felt between his fingers and Emmet's hunched body instead. Emmet's head swung wildly between the hall and the fight going on. Logan wondered who he agreed with, or if there was someone coming for them already.

"So what?" Edgar shouted back, "We get hurt all the time! He's always hurt! We never stopped then!"

"I don't know!" Amelia's tone climbed higher, wilder, and Logan rubbed at his ears. "I don't _know_ Edgar! Nothing makes sense, and I'm scared. I'm scared out of my mind and all you can do is bully another kid!"

Her entire body slumped. She wrapped her arms around herself, her voice cracking with tears. Logan didn’t think he had ever heard her so close to defeat.

"I'm just scared, Ed. And you're not helping."

Edgar froze and looked away. Logan's eyes dropped, drawn to the movement of Edgar's hands. Fingers picked at the nail beds, pulling tiny bits of skin away from its home. Logan would have told him to stop if the heavy silence didn't feel like a weight on his chest. Like breaking it now would be breaking some window to another world.

"I am too," Edgar said finally, tiny as Logan felt. "I'm scared too." He breathed out deeply, a whoosh of air Logan squashed a bit of jealousy over. His chest still ached. Edgar held a hand out to Amelia. "You're right, Amy, you're always right, aren't you?"

Amelia swiped at her face. "Course I am, and don't you forget it."

She took his hand. Logan looked away. His eyes drifted up towards the stars above them. He leaned away from them all, resting his head against the glass. He wanted to sleep for the next week or so. Maybe when he woke up it would be time for school and he could leave the mess of the group home behind him, at least for a little bit.

School was always nice.

He flinched at a finger poking at his shoulder.

"Yo Bookworm," Edgar snapped, "Were you listening at all?"

"Are you done spouting off nonsense?" Logan replied out of habit. The sentence fell flat just like his last one. Edgar frowned at him, poking his shoulder again. Logan grimaced at the way it pulled on his ribs and the bruises there. Edgar looked back at Amelia who waved a hand at the two of them.

Edgar sighed.

"She owes me for this," Edgar muttered and Logan couldn't help the-

"If this helps wouldn't you owe her?" that slipped from his mouth. Edgar's mouth twitched upwards for a brief moment, and he flicked Logan's ear. Logan flinched, rubbing at the spot while he glared at the older boy.

"Yeah but don't you go around telling her that," Edgar shot back. Logan squirmed slightly as Edgar looked him over again. The half done makeup on his face felt heavy and thick, like his tongue and heart. "Ok guys let's get back to work. We need to get the worst of this covered up and come up with a story for-"

"A story for what?"

The entire room froze at Ms. Wilson's voice. Edgar's eyes slipped closed. Logan sucked in a sharp breath, fear rising in his chest. They couldn't get caught, not now.

"It was my idea!" Logan blurted out. He leaned forward, trying not to wince as the action pulled on all of his injuries. "I'm the one who decided-"

"Shut up Logan," Edgar hissed. Logan watched as Ms. Wilson's eyes narrowed, looking between them all. Emmet glanced around her legs and sent them all an apologetic look. She crossed her arms. Amelia inched closer to them all.

"Oh no," Ms. Wilson said, "please do continue. I would love to know why-" she paused, eyes sweeping over the small group to count them all- "seven of my kids are out of bed, and one of them clearly injured. I can wait."

Amelia looked at Edgar. Edgar glared at Emmet. Logan sighed. Ms. Wilson tapped her foot.

"I dared him to climb a tree," Amelia said, her words tumbling together into a mess. Logan did his best not to stare at her, instead dropping his eyes to the floor. He hoped Ms. Wilson would take it as shame or embarrassment, instead of an effort to hide the truth. "The really big one out back. Edgar didn't think he could do it. We talked Emmet into playing lookout, and then the word spread more than we thought it would and-"

Ms. Wilson pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Everyone who wasn't directly involved in this, head to bed. If you're lucky, I won't ground you tomorrow." Logan eyed the kids' retreating backs enviously. Footsteps tore his attention away from them, and he turned to eye Emmet as he shuffled up to the other side of the window.

Ms. Wilson stared at them all, heaving a sigh.

"I hope you all know how disappointed in you I am," Ms Wilson started. Her eyes raked over them all and Logan shrunk back against the window when they lingered on him. "You're all better than this. I know it, you know it, so why?"

Her voice held more disappointment than her words, and even more exhaustion. A broken system, Logan was reminded. Sometimes she was in this ride just as much as they were, rather than directing it. He hoped that she made enough to make up for it.

She held up a hand as Edgar opened his mouth.

"I don't want to hear anything from you just yet.” She faced Amelia with a  heavy gaze. “Amelia, you're grounded for the next two weeks. No TV, no going outside, and I want you helping with the dishes after every meal." Ms. Wilson cut off her complaints. "This is you getting off _lightly_ , young lady. You're lucky that Logan wasn't hurt even worse by this stunt of yours."

Amelia slunk off at the wave of Ms. Wilson's hand. Logan ground his teeth, trying not to let his shoulders hike upwards at the lack of other children around him. Three to one, still didn't feel like enough around an adult.

"Edgar," Ms. Wilson's voice dug into Logan's chest and he took a shuddering breath. "You're usually much better with the younger children, I'm disappointed in you especially. Two weeks, but you're going to be doing laundry instead of dishes. All of it. I expect our sheets to be spotless by the time you're done, you understand?"

Edgar kicked the ground.

"I asked, Edgar do you understand?"

"Yes, Ms. Wilson," Edgar muttered. His eyes cut to Logan for a brief moment, giving him a short nod before Ms. Wilson shooed him off as well. Something warm uncurled in Logan's chest for a brief moment before he recognized it as an emotion and he shoved it down like everything else.

Emmet slid even closer to him, and Logan blinked at the shoulder brushing his own. It made sense for Emmet to seek him for comfort when no one else was around. The moment that Edgar entered the picture again, Logan would be alone once more. But for now, Logan could understand Emmet seeking safety in numbers.

It didn’t explain why it relaxed Logan as well.

“Emmet,” Ms. Wilson continued, “You’re a good kid, but please, you have to stop just going along with what the other kids want. Logan could have gotten seriously hurt-” Her eyes cut to Logan and he dropped his own gaze- “He _did_ get seriously hurt, and we could have stopped it if you had simply said something.”

Emmet sniffled, wiping at his eyes.

“Ok, Ms. Wilson,” he said softly. She reached over and ruffled his hair. Emmet unfolded like a flower under her touch. Logan didn’t get it. Emmet trusted so easily, when they had all been hurt so much by adults.

Logan’s shoulders itched with the phantom weight of Roman’s arms around them.

“Good. I’m only going to ground you for a week, and I hope this incident has been enough punishment for you on its own as well as being a learning experience,” Ms. Wilson said, taking her hand back from Emmet. She pushed him gently down the hall towards the bedrooms. Emmet glanced back at Logan. Logan waved weakly at him with his good hand.

He tensed as Ms. Wilson turned back to him. She planted her hands on her hips, staring down at him for a long moment. Logan winced. The wood of the group home creaked in the silence. He wondered if she was going to punish him even more.

Logan dropped his eyes as footsteps neared him. He shrunk back against the window, biting his lips. He didn’t want to hear her scold him for doing something stupid. He didn’t even know what he had _done_ in the first place. He struggled to breathe through the weight on his chest.

“Logan,” Ms. Wilson said softly, and he turned his head even more away from her. “Logan.” She repeated, her tone harder. “Look at me.”

Logan’s shoulders inched towards his ears as he turned. Her eyes widened as she got a clear look at his face. Vindictive pleasure ran through him, and he wanted her to ask. Ask what had happened so that he could throw something dark back into her face. He tried to take a deep breath. No, no feelings. He stared at her, face blank and heart empty.

“I’m going to see how bad it is, is that alright?” Ms. Wilson asked. She crouched next to him, meeting him at his level for once. Her hands hovered just above his ankle and he blinked. He blinked rapidly. She sat, waiting for his reply and only moved forward once Logan silently nodded.

Her finger pressed against his swollen ankle, more confident then Amelia’s even if they were less gentle. Her frown deepened. She let him go, and reached up for the arm cradled next to his chest. The rough pads of her fingertips barely touched his forearm before tears sprung to his eyes from the pain. He flinched back from her out of instinct, his head colliding with the window from the jerk and sending stars across his vision.

“-gan. Logan!” Ms. Wilson’s voice bounced against his skull. She gripped his cheeks. He tried to track the way she swayed. It took a moment to realize that he was the one moving. “That’s it, focus on me. Just like that Logan, very good.”

Logan blinked at her, exhaustion crashing into him. He couldn’t decipher the look on her face as she rose to her full height. She said something else, but Logan only caught the word hospital between the ringing that had returned. Ms. Wilson turned and hurried away from him. Logan wondered if she was going to come back.

Not that it mattered.

Logan closed his eyes, and waited. Like he always would.

* * *

Logan’s fingers itched with the need to poke at the cast on his right arm. The blue fiberglass was more interesting than the black plastic encasing his ankle. It also meant that he didn’t have to think about the nurse that wrapped his arm in bandages.

She chattered as she did so, the words washing over Logan. He preferred to stare down at the cast then listen to her. All of the _touching_ that everyone had been doing lately burrowed under his skin and stayed there. He was hyper aware of her hands brushing against his skin, and he resisted the urges to shove her away at the same time he wanted to lean into the warmth.

Still, sitting and waiting until she finished was better than the dark enclosed space of the machine they had put him in when he had first arrived. Logan tried not to think about the small dark space and how similar it was to the closet. He had wanted to ask about what it was and what it did, but he couldn’t force the words past his tongue.

He’d read about it later. Less chance of someone getting mad at him that way.

“And there you go sweetheart!” The nurse stepped away from him, eyes checking over the bandaging one last time. Her eyes lingered on the white that stood out against his dark hair before skipping down and over his arms and legs. “Does anything else hurt?”

Logan shook his head. Technically, everything still ached. But the painkillers the doctors had given him helped with it all. He glanced away from her, wondering if they would tell him everything that was wrong with him. Probably not. He had heard part of what they told Ms. Wilson out in the hall.

Sprained left ankle, several greenstick fractures (whatever those were) along his right arm, concussion, black eye, bruising along all limbs, skinned dermal tissue (Logan longed for a book about all of this) along elbows and knees, as well as cuts all along his arms.

He’d gotten off “lucky” apparently.

“Alrighty then!” The nurse continued. She gathered up her supplies, still talking brightly all the while. Logan wondered if she was related to Pat- if she was always this cheerful when dealing with patients. He didn’t think it was a good policy if it were true. “The doctor wants to keep you overnight to monitor that head of yours, so you can make yourself as comfy as you want! Someone will be by in a minute to ask you some questions and make sure you’re set up for the day, alright?”

Logan nodded, playing with the cotton under his cast.

The nurse smiled at him, “Don’t you worry, sweetie. Everything’s going to be alright.”

Logan shrugged, glancing towards the window in his room. He wondered if he’d get in trouble for getting up to mess with the blinds. He couldn’t see the stars the way it was now. He hated the way that he needed them to feel secure.

He let go of his cast as the nurse bustled out. He ran his fingers over the white sheets of his bed. The IV swung next to him. The sounds of the hospital washed over him, loud and chaotic compared to the silence that had been at the home. Footsteps passed by, and Logan wondered what it would be like to have someone waiting for him. Or even to have something other than the empty chairs next to the bed.

He couldn’t imagine waiting for anyone he cared about, sitting in the hospital, hoping that they’d be alright.

He’d need someone who cared first.

Logan eyed the television across from him. He didn’t know where the remote was, and if he got up to look for it he’d pull on the needle in his arm. The not-silence made his hair stand on edge. He couldn’t tell if someone was approaching his room or just passing by. He couldn’t see the stars. His thoughts felt like bees in a jar.

And if he took the moment to be absolutely honest with himself-

He wanted Patton or Roman. He wanted one of them, both of them, telling him that it would be alright and there’s be cookies and books for when he got home. Roman would crack a joke and Patton would giggle. Patton would comment how Logan had two parents he didn’t need to become a _mummy_ -

_“They’ve requested to see someone else today. Someone a little less work_. _”_

Logan curled his legs up, and shoved his head between them. It would never happen. They didn’t love him. They didn’t _want_ him. He imagined smashing a foot down on his hope, on his imagination and felt a little better. He would get by on his own. He didn’t need them either. He didn’t _want_ them.

They could pick out an easy sunshine child like them all they wanted.

One day, when Logan had grown up, he’d forget all about them and be content with the fact that he had made it. He didn’t need anyone. He never had. He never would.

Footsteps clicked like a clock down the hall, and Logan lifted his head as they got closer. A countdown to what, he didn’t know. The doctor’s white coat swished around his ankles, and Logan kept his eyes glued to the floor. Black shoes approached his bed.

“Hello Logan, I’m Dr. Mike Hope, and I’ll be taking care of you for the night,” Logan glanced up as the doctor strode over to the clipboard hanging by the bed. Logan sat quietly as he looked it over, not quite willing to be the one to say the first word. Dr. Hope looked up at him and grinned. “So I hear you’ve taken quite the nasty tumble. You want to tell me what happened?”

Logan's heart skipped a beat.

“I thought Ms. Wilson told you about it, sir?” Logan asked carefully. Dr. Hope chuckled and took a seat next to his bed.

“Well, yes she did, but I’d like to hear what happened from your perspective. I’m a doctor you know,” he winked, “It’s my job to take care of you and the more I know the better I can do that.”

Logan shrugged, trying to calm his racing heart. Weren’t patients in the hospital usually hooked up to something that read their heart? Why wasn’t he? Logan bit his tongue on the question. He wouldn’t annoy the doctor. He didn’t want to know anyways. It was fine.

“I fell out of a tree,” Logan said shortly.

Dr. Hope hummed, tapping the pen in his hand against the clipboard. “And how did you fall? You must have been pretty high up to end up as bruised as you did!”

Logan chewed on his cheek. He struggled to keep his breathing even. He didn’t want to think about where his bruises came from. He didn’t want to remember the stairs or-

“I wanted to prove her wrong,” he said instead, trying to cling to the story that Amelia told. His hands shook and he pressed them against the bed to hide the movement. He could do this. He had to do this. “I just- I slipped.”

Dr. Hope tilted his head to peer at Logan from over his glasses. He set his pen against the clipboard, and Logan glanced away. He traced the patterns of his sheets with his eyes. He wondered if he could find the shape of DNA in it.

“I’m going to be honest with you Logan,” Dr. Hope said softly. Logan focused on his breathing. “Your injuries, while close, don’t quite match what we’d expect from a child your age falling out of a tree. And I think you know that as well as I do.” Logan’s hands twisted in the sheets before letting them go. “Your palms, for one, are remarkably intact for having hauled yourself up against the rough bark.”

Logan stared at the sheets even harder.

“I fell out of a tree,” he repeated, soft and stubborn. He watched Dr. Hope lean forward out of the corner of his eyes and wished for more space. The room pressed in around him, walling closing in like Dr. Hope’s words.

“You’re a good kid, Logan. A smart one too, if my guess is correct.” Logan watched him lean forward even more. He wondered if the clipboard hurt against Dr. Hope’s arm, the white line where his flesh met the metal catching Logan’s eyes. “And what I’m guessing right now is that you don’t feel safe. You feel like you have to lie.”

He reached out, brushing against Logan’s good hand.

“I promise, you are safe here, and it’s our job to do anything in our power to help you.”

Logan looked up at him. He met the doctor’s eyes squarely. He clenched his fingers in the sheets, focusing on the way it pulled on his cuts and bruises. Distrust clawed through his heart. It was Trumpbull’s job to look after him. Patton had claimed to love him.

Logan knew better.

They had all taught him better.

“I don’t know what you think, sir,” Logan said. He took a deep breath, “But I fell out of a tree. Nothing more.”

Dr. Hope stared back at him for a long moment. The intercom went off above them. Logan’s hands shook against the bed.

After a long moment, Dr. Hope sighed.

“Alright Logan, if you say so.”

* * *

Patton skipped down the street. He gripped Roman’s hand as their locked fingers swung back and forth between them. He couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. He hummed the song that lightened his heart since Ana Marie had slammed the door to their house open with a proud grin, and words of salvation on her tongue.

Well, not salvation, but Roman had claimed they were and Patton was inclined to agree.

Not even his disappointment in Roman punching Ms. Trumpbull could outweigh the joy that ballooned in his chest right now. Besides, he and Roman had talked and it was alright now! Ana Marie had made sure that it didn’t ruin her progress with the group home, and now today was the day!

He glanced back at Roman, to find a grin that matched his own. Roman squeezed his hand, spreading even more warmth through Patton’s body. He was the luckiest man in the world.

Sunlight warmed Patton’s face as he slowed down to tuck himself into Roman’s side. Roman’s hand left his to wrap around his shoulders. A car drove past. Patton bounced on his heels at the sight of the group home in the distance. Roman laughed, long and loud, like he hadn’t since they had been kicked out of the home by that horrible woman.

“Are you ready for our happy ending, mi amor?” Roman asked, stopping to grip Patton even tighter. Patton couldn’t help the squeal that escaped his throat, a sound that was soon echoed by Roman. It bled into laughter as Roman wrapped him up into a full hug and spun him around in circles.

The wind blew through Patton hair and face. His cheeks ached from grinning. Nothing could stop them now.

They were going to see Logan again.

“I’ve been ready since the day I meet you,” Patton breathed. Roman’s cheeks blushed the same pretty red they had the day Patton had accepted the ring still on his finger. Roman leaned in, nuzzling their noses together in an action that made Patton giggle.

“We’re going to be parents!” Roman shouted, spinning Patton around one last time. He didn’t let go of Patton’s shoulders even after he set him back down and Patton adored the touch. He adored the hope and light in his husbands eyes. The exuberance that he had first fallen in love with making its glorious return.

“Family dinners and movies and activities,” Patton added, practically melting at the thought. All three of them sitting at their small table, Logan’s bright chatter filling the room. The empty room in their house finally filled. The final piece to their puzzle slotting neatly into place. Patton couldn’t wait.

“I’m going to buy him every book he’ll ever want!” Roman said, his hand cutting through the air as he made his purpose known. Patton giggled. “And a lab set! The nerd will want a lab set for chemistry and biology and oh oh oh! Those stay away camps! For nerds! We _have_ to send him to at least one of them– no, to all of them!”

Patton set a hand on Roman’s forearm.

“Maybe start with one?” he reminded gently. “Like say _a_ book? Or maybe two, I think we could still get away with two or three after we get his room set up.”

“His room!” Roman yelled. His hands reached for his hair, and Patton grabbed them with another giggle before Roman could tear at it. Patton happened to love his hair, thank you very much. “How could I have forgotten?! We have to give him the fortress that he deserves! Quick, Patton dear, we need to get astrology charts for his roof and Sherlock posters for the walls! Would the store have those science displays for sale at this time-?”

“Roman!” Patton shouted, grinning as Roman startled out of his imaginings. He couldn’t quite picture Logan’s room the same way that Roman did, but he was certain of one thing. Once Roman was done with it, it would be magnificent. Patton just hoped he didn’t go _too_ overboard with it. Paint could get expensive.

Roman blinked at him, and Patton nudged him with his shoulder. Roman nudged him back, and Patton grinned even wider, wrapping a hand around Roman’s waist.

“Wait until after we ask him to live with us first maybe?” Patton reminded.

“Ha! You of little faith!” Roman shoved a finger into his face. Patton kissed the tip of it, falling a little bit more in love with Roman when he got bopped in the nose in response. “Logan will most certainly want to come home with us! I mean, let’s be honest, who wouldn’t?”

Patton pulled him to a stop in front of the group home’s gate. He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the _Happy Hearts and Home for Orphaned Children_ sign; he wasn’t that childish. Sometimes. Maybe. Well, he _could_ be mature at times!

He cupped Roman’s face in his hand instead. The laughter of the children around them settled around his shoulders like a warm blanket right out of the dryer. He pulled Roman close, pressing their lips together. The privilege of kissing the man in front of him had only grown sweeter with time. God, he was so, so, _so_ proud of Roman.

He pushed thoughts of the gangly boy he had first met away and pressed their foreheads together.

“I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t,” Patton said softly. His grip on Roman’s face tightened, not quite ready to let him pull away quite yet. The image of Roman’s pale face dance behind his eyes. “Hey. You know I love you right?”

Roman’s eyes visibly melted and Patton tilted his head back to give Roman better access to his lips. Patton had been right, all those years ago. There was no one he could love as much as he did Roman. He really _was_ the luckiest man alive.

“You’d never let me forget,” Roman said back, just as soft. He reached up and squeezed Patton’s hand. He tilted his head to press a soft kiss to Patton’s palm before finally pulling away. He kept his fingers tangled through Patton’s as he stood at his full height. “Let’s go get our know-it-all brat, why don’t we?”

Patton whacked Roman’s arm.

“Be nice!” he scolded.

“I’ll be nice when he’s nice back!” Roman declared, dragging Patton towards the door. “I will not be bested by a child!”

Patton threw his head back in laughter. The sun was finally peeking over the horizon; the clouds being blown away at last. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He couldn’t help the goofy grin on his face as Roman charged in, heading straight for the matron in the front.

A dream coming true.

Patton knew it would be as good as the last time it had happened.

“Excuse me!” Roman called, and the woman turned. Patton squinted his eyes at her. He was pretty certain her name was Ms. Holland. Her eyes widened at the sight of them. Patton crossed his fingers behind his back, not looking forward to having to talk about their right to visit Logan if it came down to that.

“We’re here to visit Logan,” Roman declared. Ms. Holland’s eyes filled with sympathy that Patton couldn’t place. A small gasp caught Patton’s attention, and he glanced around to catch one of the kids scampering away, down the hall.

Something hard and ugly grew in Patton’s stomach.

“Of course,” Ms. Holland said gently, patting Roman on the arm. Patton’s feelings grew worse. “Let me see if he’s up for any visitors at the moment, poor dear. Wait here just a moment.”

_Up for_? Patton mouthed to himself. He shifted on his feet. They had never said anything like that before. Usually, it was more about locating Logan, rather than whether or not Logan actually wanted to see them. Thinking back on it, it wasn’t fair to Logan. Patton rub at his arm nervously at the thought.

Roman squeezed his hand reassuringly. Patton took a deep breath. Right, it was going to be fine. He was just on edge from last time they had been here.

He swallowed hard at the look on Ms. Holland’s face as she came back.

No.

_No._

“I’m terribly sorry-” Her voice rang like a death knell.

Not after they had tried to hard!

“-but it just seems-”

They were so _close!_

“-that Logan doesn’t want to see you at the moment.”

Patton bit down on the keen building in his throat. She offered them an apologetic look, wiping her hands down on her skirt.

“I can put you down for next week however?”

Patton couldn’t make out Roman’s voice, an agreement most likely, as his ears rang. Roman’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, steering him out of the building once more. Patton’s voice dried up in his throat, holding his protests back. They weren’t meant to leave. They- they had to-

They needed to see Logan.

And now it felt like they never would.


	10. Not Every Card's A Trump Part 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok a couple of things! First of all, it is highly unlikely that MTO will be updated during November and you have my apologies for that. I'm going to be working on something else for Nano, so keep an eye out! Second, apologies for how long getting this chapter out took. Life happened :p
> 
> ANYWAYS! Huge thanks to wisepuma23 and my-happy-little-bean as always! I would be lost without them!

Patton gripped Roman’s arm, hoping that it wasn’t too tight. He didn’t want to leave bruises on Roman, but at the same time he couldn’t calm his nerves enough to let go. He could feel the way Roman was trembling despite the confident stride that his husband followed the matron with.

After a week- a week of nightmares, of worrying what had happened or what they had done, of holding each other close - they were finally, _finally_ going to see Logan again. Patton’s heart beat against his chest at the very thought. He _needed_ to see his son, to make sure that Logan was alright.

Roman reached to twine their hands together. Patton stared at the matron’s back, Ms. Holland again, and wondered about the tension along her shoulders. Her words about Logan not _wanting_ to see them still rung in his ears. They made a home in his bones, leaving him hollow and rung out.

Logan had every right to hate them for not showing up.

It didn’t make it hurt any less.

The air of the group home hung heavy in the air, a tension through everyone’s frame. Or maybe that was just Patton. He shook his head, focusing on the distant laughter and voices of the other children. Ms. Holland’s shoes clicked against the floor like Ana Marie’s did. Patton tried to focus on that rather than the rolling of his stomach.

It would be fine.

His breath shuddered as Ms. Holland lead them to the familiar door that they had seen so many times before. Patton gripped Roman’s hand even tighter, his other one coming up to squeeze Roman’s arm again. This was it. Patton mentally swore that nothing would get in their way this time. Or ever again. No matter what it took, Logan was _their_ son.

Patton watched the children's heads snap up as they stepped into the room. Something prickeled along the back of his neck. Chatter and laughter was quick to return, but Patton couldn’t shake his unease at the action. He wondered if Roman had noticed it at all as his husband made a beeline for their usual table.

Patton almost wished for some one-on-one time with Logan. But they didn’t want to push him, or trap him, or a million other things. Maybe Roman was right and they were being _too_ careful.

Patton sat down next to Roman, trying to resist the urge to pull his feet up onto the chair with him. He wouldn’t quite fit that way. Besides, he wanted to be ready for when Logan showed up. The fact that Logan wasn’t already there chewed at the edges of his brain along with the way that Ms. Holland had turned them away last time. Something was wrong and Patton hated not knowing what.

He hated not being able to help.

Patton blinked as he realized that Ms. Holland had already left to fetch Logan. Roman’s hand rested on his arm, and Patton watched some of the younger kids chase each other around the room with a laugh. One of the younger girls, Mary—maybe it was Betsy?—stopped to wave at him.

Patton waved back, trying to take comfort in the brilliant grin that she gave him in return. He watched her ponytails bounce as she shrieked and chased after another child. He let his hand fall, and he sighed. He leaned back against Roman, who turned to press a kiss to his scalp.

“It’s going to be fine, Professor My Love,” Roman murmured softly. His fingers ran up and down Patton’s arm. Patton burrowed into him even more, relishing in the warmth. “No matter what happens we’ll slay the beast! We’re not the type to give up in the middle of a quest!”

Patton straightened his back. He pulled away from Roman, a grin spreading over his face at the whine Roman let out. As much as he loved Roman, rubbing in the matrons’ faces just how gay they were wouldn’t help the situation. Even if all he really wanted to do was stomp his foot and demand that they give him the respect he deserved.

He gave Roman’s cheek a pat (ha!) and grinned even wider.

“You are absolutely right my dear,” Patton said, taking strength from Roman’s confidence. Ana Marie had told him once that they were like a feedback loop. Roman fed Patton with confidence, and Patton fed Roman with validation. Pushing each other ever higher.

Patton smiled at him. “With a Prince like you, what could I ever have to fear?”

“Exactly!” Roman nudged him, grin bordering on goofy with how wide it was. “No witch or dragon or enemy is going to stand in our way! We’re going to take them by the gonads and fight our way to victory! No matter what it takes!”

Patton giggled, relaxing at Roman’s words. Roman was right; he was just nervous. Patton’s emotions had a tendency to run away from him after all.

But panic wouldn’t help them at all right now. He shrugged off his bad feelings and focused on the excitement of seeing Logan today; they could handle whatever happened.

“Whatever it takes!” Patton echoed.

He took a moment to simply grin at Roman. A steady thumping hovered at the edge of his hearing, but he brushed it off as one of the matrons walking by again. Roman grinned back at him, hands twitching at his side. Patton wished for a moment that they were outside, where Roman would be able to be as loud and energetic as he wanted to be.

“- as I said, I can manage just fine on my own.” Logan’s voice struck something in Patton’s core. His head snapped around to look for his child, and realized immediately that relaxing had been the wrong thing to do. Roman made a wounded keen from his side. Patton’s chair slid out from under him before he had even realized he was standing.

Logan didn’t look at them. His eyes, instead, stayed trained on the small boy standing next to him. The boy shuffled awkwardly, but didn’t move away, hands full of books. Patton couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blue that stood out on Logan’s arm. The cast screamed at him; screamed fear and failure in equal measure.

No wonder the boy held the books. Logan couldn’t carry them. Patton’s heart stuttered as he looked Logan over, catching on the crutch, not two, he couldn’t _use_ two with one arm out of commission. His eyes filled with tears and Patton pressed a hand to his mouth, feeling light headed.

Roman tugged him gently back down into his chair. Logan glared at the boy next to him, but it lacked the heat that Logan’s glares normally had. Patton tried to work any sort of words free as Logan hobbled his way slowly towards their table. The boy trailed after, not meeting their eyes. Patton wanted to gather them both up and never let them go.

“Well hello there, Hard-Knock Life! I see that you’ve had some sort of adventure without me!” Roman called out.

Logan looked at them. Patton sucked in a sharp breath. Logan looked _exhausted_. Exhausted and lifeless. The dull eyes that stared at them sent a chill down Patton’s spine, and his hands itched to reach out until it was all better. Patton barely had the sense to be grateful that it looked like the only injuries Logan had was his arm and leg.

Patton heaved a breath as Logan looked away from them again.

“You can put them down here, Emmet, and go back to whatever you were doing,” Logan said. His tone held nothing, a steady cadence and nothing else. Unease dragged down Patton’s spine and he found himself searching for the bright young boy they had first met.

Emmet glanced between the three of them, setting the books down on the table with shaking hands. Patton wanted to smooth down the hunch in his shoulders. He wanted to crack a joke until the child relaxed and laughed. His unease slammed back into him, hitting his chest with all the force of a train.

“Oooooh,” Roman said, leaning over the table, towards the books. “Are we starting school early is that it?” Patton turned back to look at him, trying to pick out Roman’s feelings from looks and tone alone. “ _Astrophysics for People in a Hurry_ ? _Math for Dummies_? Did you take a crack at real physical activity and swear off it altogether?”

Patton watched Roman’s grin twitch at the silence he was met with. Tension dug its roots into Patton’s muscles. He gripped his knees, wanting to ask what was wrong, but the warning in Roman’s eyes held him back. The clear opportunity for banter fell to the floor and shattered.

“I mean fair enough, I almost did that too but I _do_ have to put _some_ effort into looking as fabulous as I usually do,” Roman continued as if Logan wasn’t reaching for the first of the books in his pile. “I mean it’s not a lot of work, seeing as I’m already beautiful on my own, but maintaining that standard takes time.”

Patton swallowed thickly. He didn’t understand Roman or Logan in that moment.

Logan cracked his book open, settling into his chair. Emmet glanced between them all again, before hesitantly pulling up a chair himself. It scraped against the ground. Patton found his hands shaking for some reason. Emmet leaned over Logan’s shoulder, reading whatever math thing the book contained. Patton couldn’t breathe.

Roman’s hand gripped his, running a comforting thumb over the back of his hand. It was too much. Roman was the actor, not him. Patton couldn’t sit here and pretend that Logan’s blatant act of ignoring them didn’t hurt. He couldn’t pretend that nothing was wrong or that nothing had changed.

“Excuse me,” he whispered, hating the way that his voice cracked. His chair seemed to scream against the floor as he stood up. Logan’s eyes flickered up to him and then back down again. A dismissal that cut Patton to the core. He ignored the worried look that Roman sent at his back, and the way that Roman went right back to rambling.

His footsteps echoed through the halls as he blindly hurried through them. He tried to remind himself that Logan didn’t know what had happened. That Logan had every right to be hurt by their absence.

His hands clenched into fists. He didn’t know how to tell Logan the truth when he clearly didn’t want to listen to them.

Everything he could think of sounded like an excuse.

Patton’s hand landed on the door to a bathroom. He shoved it open, and stumbled inside. It locked with a finalizing click. He slide down the back of it, pressing a hand to his mouth as the sobs finally broke free.

He sobbed for the pain in his chest. He sobbed for the look in Logan’s eyes. He sobbed for the pain of still being judged by the type of people he loved. He hiccuped, chest heaving and tears streaming down his face. Patton pressed his hands to his mouth to muffle the sounds. He didn’t want their visit to have to be cut short because he was too emotional.

He fumbled for his phone, gripping it in his hand. The contacts mocked him. He could call Ana Marie. Or Ma; maybe even Mother. It felt like he was running crying to the people in his life, like he couldn’t handle this on his own. God, could he even be counted as a father?

Logan clearly didn’t want him as one.

He buried his head between his legs, the sounds of people living in the building -- the footsteps and conversations and laughter -- mixed with his quiet sobs into a cacophony that Patton wanted to stop. His phone fell from his hand and the clamour it made scrapped against his ears. He pressed his hands against them. He wanted the world to disappear, just for a little bit, until he could stand to get back on his feet and smile like he meant it.

His fingers dug into his head. He wanted things to be alright. He had thought coming back would fix things.

_Stupid!_ His inner voice called him gleefully. _Stupid! Useless! Immature!_

Patton should have asked Ana Marie to tell Logan about what was going on. He could have written a letter. He should have tried _harder_.

_Hopeless! Naive! Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ **_Stupid!_ ** _Should have tried harder! Should have been smarter! Should have! Stupid! Hopeless! Never learn!_

Patton’s nails scrapped against the tile as he reached for his phone once more. A text from Roman asking if he was alright blinked in his notification. Patton closed it, hoping that Roman wouldn’t come looking for him quite yet. Logan should come first. Logan _should_ be coming first and instead Patton sat in the bathroom feeling sorry for himself.

Roman was the one looking out for Logan. Roman was the one acting as if nothing was wrong because it was clear that the last thing Logan needed was to have to deal with their problems too. Roman was the one being strong for their son. Roman was being a father.

Patton wasn’t.

His hands shook as he pressed his contact list. He stared at Ana Marie’s name for a long moment. He ran a thumb of the picture of the two of them pressed cheek to cheek, grins wide and the sun bright behind them. He could call her. She would help, like she always did.

And he would be bothering her. Like he always did.

His breath shuddered in his chest. He jabbed his finger on the ‘call’ button, not giving himself time to think about what he was doing. He needed this. He needed to talk to someone. He needed to talk to someone other than Roman, someone who knew what he was going through. Or well, someone who at least had some idea of it.

He pressed a fist to his mouth, trying to muffle the sob that slipped out at the familiar accented voice.

“ _Patton? Is that you?_ ” Ma asked him, her Spanish wrapping around him like a well worn blanket.

“ _Yeah, Ma,_ ” he croaked out. “ _I_ _t’s me_.”

“ _Good, because I love you, mijo, but having your sister give me all the updates about your life makes me think that you don’t love your mothers anymore,_ ” Ma said, and Patton found himself relaxing at her stern voice. He closed his eyes, picturing the dirt under her nails and the quirk of her eyebrow. “ _I almost thought that you weren’t going to call and I would have to drive down to drag you home by your ear._ ”

Patton sniffled, wiping at his face. He laughed breathlessly. Going home did sound like a good idea. Maybe sometimes soon, so they could help Ma with her garden and enjoy the sharp smell of fresh spices.

“ _You know I wouldn’t do that Mama,”_ he protested weakly. “ _Roman and I call plenty. We love you._ ”

“ _Ha! And I suppose that’s why Maria was the one to tell me that you’re adopting a boy?_ ” Patton winced. They had gotten caught up with all the drama. Ana Marie had probably been calling Ma and Mother every other day when Patton couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone. Ma’s voice softened fractionally, “ _You’d better be planning on giving that boy a Sanders-style welcome to the family, mijo. Your mother will want pictures._ ”

Patton couldn’t help the offended sound that slipped from his lips.

“ _Of course I will take pictures! What else would I put in my scrapbooks?_ ” Patton had whole shelves full of them, starting from middle school all the way to the present, of Ana Marie, and Ma and Mother, and the whole family. Roman’s shelf was a little bare, but Patton was working on it.

Patton’s breath caught. He had cleared out a whole shelf in anticipation of starting some for Logan. He had rambled at Roman the whole time; he had told Roman all about what sort of pictures that he wanted to use and the science stickers had had saved for it. The first book sat on that shelf now, waiting for him to put it to use.

He pressed his hand to his mouth as his sobs returned. He wanted to believe in Roman’s confidence; that Logan would never truly turn them away. He wanted to believe in the chance that Ana Marie took, in taking the time to get them back into the group home. He wanted to believe in Logan, in himself, in the whole world.

“ _You must remember to breathe, Ton-ton_ ,” Ma reminded him, her tone simple and almost brisk. Patton struggled to follow her instructions, taking a huge breath that echoed in the empty bathroom. " _Yes, just like that. Let it all out, so that you can use the brain that I know you have._ "  
  
Ma's voice dropped into a low crooning hum as Patton cried. He cried until he felt like someone had tried to wring him out like a wet cloth. He hiccuped one final time, his head pounding, and wiped at his eyes. The other end of his phone crackled with bird calls, and he realized that Ma had wandered off outside to wait for him to calm down. He wiped at his face again, nose wrinkling at his damp sleeves.  
  
" _Have the sprinklers finished?_ " Ma asked him, voice a little more distant than it had been before. Patton tried to picture the look on Mother's face when she found Ma gardening with the speakerphone on again. It helped, just a bit.  
  
"Si, Mama," he whispered. His head pounded. His hands shook and everything still felt horrible, but at the same time-  
  
At the same time, it all felt a little bit more manageable.  
  
" _Good_ ," she said, sounding satisfied. " _I want to you get something to drink as well when you can, don't think I don't remember what your habits were like when you were at home. A glass of hot cocoa and pasta with chocolate sauce may be comforting but they don't help the body and you know it. Fried Plantains would be much better_."  
  
" _They don't sell those here Mama_ ," Patton said, giggling wetly at the offended huff his mother made.  
  
" _Well, I shall send you some then,_ " she said, and Patton could practically hear the head nod that came with it. " _But first, tell me what's wrong. You may be a lot like that one character your cousin enjoys-_ "  
  
" _Steven, Ma. Thomas likes Steven,_ " Patton reminded her.  
  
" _Ah yes, and you say will hi to him for me, yes?_ " She added, something crinkling in her hands. " _All you kids up there on your own worry me. Maria's got her hands full making sure all you boys take care of yourselves. And, don't think I can't recognize a distraction when I hear one._ "

Patton focused on breathing, feeling it rattle through his chest. Ma waited for him, silent and as immovable as the steel she used to support her plants. The whole story came from him in fits and starts. He couldn't make it through all of it in one go. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't embellished like Roman would have made it. Just the bare emotional facts that Patton knew.  
  
He let his words stutter out, breathing hard as he waited for Ma to say something. He thought he heard the sound of her pruning shears. Something shuffled on her end and the same warm voice that had soothed him to sleep on his worst nights sounded right next to his ear.  
  
Ma chuckled, a warm and rich sound that filled the empty spaces in Patton's heart.  
  
" _It sounds to me like your boy is throwing his first tantrum_ ," Ma said. Patton stared at the far wall in disbelief.  
  
" _Now don't you give me that look, mijito._ " Patton choked at her words and she laughed out loud. " _He's upset with you and lashing out. You and Maria both did it yourselves. Your Prince did as well. Don't let him get to you. March back out there and give him your time and support. Nothing worth growing comes from the garden easy._ "  
  
Patton closed his eyes. He ran his fingers over the edges of his sleeves before fiddling with the cardigan around his shoulders. He desperately wanted a hug. Patton had never expect that being a parent would be easy, but he'd be lying if he didn't admit that he never thought it would be this hard. Ma certainly made it look easy.  
  
" _Okay_ ," he breathed in deeply, feeling his eyes water again. He just loved his Ma so much, " _Okay, I can do this._ "  
  
" _You can, and I thought I told you to let it all out before this,_ " Ma said, more fond and teasing than anything else. " _And don't you forget to call your mother later, you hear? She wants to talk to you more._ "  
  
" _Iloveyou_ ," Patton rushed out, recognizing the point they had reached in the conversation. The dial tone rang in his ears. He hoped Ma had heard him; he hated it when he was too slow and she hung up before he could say it at least once. Patton pulled the phone away from his ear and stared fondly at it.  
  
His legs shook as he stood up and staggered towards the sink. He shoved his phone back into his tote back. Things hadn't changed, but he felt better about it.

Patton turned the sink on, splashing his face with water. He meet his own eyes in the mirror. Still red rimmed, but with something steadier behind them.  
  
Well, he had always wanted to be like Ma.  
  
He adjusted his tote bag and threw back his shoulders. He could do this. He had been there for Roman when Roman needed him, all he had to do was be there for Logan as well. Patton could offer hugs and comfort and patience. He had waited this long; he could wait a little bit longer.  
  
He ran his fingers through his hair, carefully setting everything back into rights. He had to follow Roman's lead on this. They couldn't make things worse for Logan. They were going to be parents and that meant putting Logan first. Patton stared at the door for a long moment before finally reaching for it and throwing it open.  
  
He marched forward before he could change his mind. He could stand up to homophobes and jerkfaces. He just had to find that same well of strength and use it here. Logan needed him.

Patton strode back towards where he vaguely remembered the room being. The group home was rather large, and Patton hoped that he hadn't gotten himself lost. At least he hadn't gone up any of the stairs. He hadn't gone up any of the stairs right? Oh dear.  
  
Patton stopped in the middle of the hallway, stepping aside so that a pair of kids could go running past him. He glanced back and forth. Oh _dear_ . He wasn't even sure he was heading in the right direction. He reached for his phone, thinking about texting Roman about coming to find him when the image of Logan limping along on his crutch flash across his eyes.  
  
He let his hand drop.  
  
He could find his way alone.  
  
Patton took a few hesitant steps back towards the direction of the bathroom. He shifted his weight, and then turned right back around. He knew where he was going. He turned around again. He had no idea where he was going. He couldn't remember how far he gone, or how many turns he had taken. Everything looked the same to him.  
  
"Hey, Fortnite failure." Patton blinked at the voice that came from his left. He turned towards it, blinking again at the boy glaring at him. The kid crossed his arms, pulling on the long sleeves that he wore. So many long sleeves, Patton wondered if the air conditioning was broken. Something skittered down his spine at the thought and Patton shoved it away.  
  
Later.  
  
"Golly, well hello there kiddo!" Patton greeted, waving at the boy. The boy scoffed, leaning against the doorway that he stood in. "My name's Patton! What's yours?"  
  
He shifted uncomfortably as the boy stared at him. Patton wondered if it would be like Logan all over again, and he wouldn't get a name at all. As much of an adventure trying to figure Logan out was, Patton didn't quite feel in the mood for adding another one on top of that.  
  
"No, I don't see it," the boy said finally. "I don't get what he sees in you."  
  
"Uh, excuse me?" Patton reached up to scratch at the back of his neck. Embarrassment settled in his gut. He had no idea what the kiddo was talking about. His brain jumped to Roman first, but that didn't make any sort of sense. Roman didn't know any of the other children here.  
  
"You're the one here for Logan right?" the boy asked. Somehow the question managed to sound like an accusation. Patton straightened (as much as someone as queer as he was could, ha!) and ran his eyes down the kiddo once more. The boy carried tension in every part of his frame and Patton couldn't help but wonder why.  
  
He chewed on the inside of his cheek before deciding to put it aside for the moment. He'd talk it out with Ana Marie at some point and figure out what was bothering him. Something about this all felt familiar.  
  
"That's me!" He agreed. "Well, I'm half of that at least! Me and Roman are the ones here to see Logan. I'm kinda getting the feeling that he wants to be _alon-gan_ !"  
  
Patton giggled to himself. The boy gave him one of the flattest looks Patton had ever seen. It was actually kind of impressive. Maybe it was a thing here at the group home? Logan did the same thing every time Patton made a joke.  
  
"Maybe he does," the boy snapped. Patton fought not to recoil at the venom that encased the simple words. The boy's eyes narrowed. Something about the look rang a bell in the back of Patton's mind. "Haven't you jerked him around enough? Maybe he wants someone he can trust for once, maybe you should just leave us- him alone."  
  
Patton folded his fingers together, letting his arms hang as he studied the boy in front of him. His lips twitched upwards. Ah, so that's who Patton thought he was like. After all, Ana Marie had her own fair share of words to tell people who messed with her little brother.  
  
"You must care about Logan a lot!" Patton watched as the boy jerked back. Bingo. He couldn't help but bounce on his heels a little bit in excitement. Figuring people out always gave him such a rush, it must have been why he and Ana Marie had spent so much time people watching as they grew up. The best puzzle in the world was trying to make a new friend.  
  
A blush rose on the boy's cheeks.  
  
"No- no I don't!" Patton grinned down at him. He wanted to coo that the kiddo was adorable. He didn't have to hide anything. His excitement faltered at a spot of purple along the boy's wrist.  
  
A hand yanked the sleeve down even farther, hiding the bruise from view. "I said I didn't care! Now fuck off and stop staring at me like some sort of creeper!"

Patton held his hands up in a gesture of peace. He turned his head away from the kiddo altogether, looking down the hall instead. He couldn’t see the kiddo’s reaction but he hoped that it was better with more space. He debated just leaving altogether, but it wasn’t like he knew where he was going.

“Why the hell were you pacing around out here instead of with Logan anyways?”

Patton bit his lip.

“Now that’s not very nice language-”

“And catch me crying in the club about it. You gonna answer my question or not?” Patton’s eyes flickered back to the boy, and then away again. In that brief second, he caught sight of the boy’s clenched hands. A contrast to the nervous way he held himself.

Patton didn’t like it.

“Oh of course! You’re right kiddo, it’s rather rude of me not to reply!” Patton said gently. “I just got up to go to the bathroom and found myself a little turned around that’s all.”

“You’re kinda stupid aren’t you?” Patton finally turned back to grin at the kid. He was rather adorable, with his ruffled hair and incredulous expression. Patton thought he could almost understand Roman’s needling of Logan now. If it weren’t for the clear don’t-touch-me-vibes the kid gave off, Patton would have scooped him up into a huge hug already.

“So I’ve been told,” Patton replied. He giggled at the scoff he got in return. His suspicions disappeared. The kiddo seemed to just be the naturally stand-offish sort. Patton set aside the fact that he felt like a ping pong ball for later. He could focus on other things later, right now was for the children.

Patton heard heavy footsteps echoing down the hall. He tensed, watching as the boy’s eyes left his face and darted down the hall. He glanced over his shoulder with a sinking heart.

The familiar, imposing figure of Ms. Trumpbull stalked towards them.

Patton turned to face her, angling to place himself between her and the boy without really knowing why.

“Edgar!” She snapped, and Patton felt his teeth grind. She waved her hand like Edgar was some sort of dog. Maybe she didn’t mean it that way, but Patton wasn’t feeling all that charitable towards her at the moment.

“What are you doing? You have laundry duty and I haven’t seen a clean sheet from you yet,” Ms. Trumpbull continued. Frustration stirred in Patton’s gut as he realized she was just going to ignore him. He would have been fine with that if it weren’t for the way that Edgar’s shoulders hunched defensively at her words.

His eyes narrowed.

He clapped his hands together, filing the way that Edgar jumped at the noise for later. So much he had to put aside for later, Patton’s heart ached. Trumpbull’s eyes turned to him and Patton smiled. His cheeks ached, twisting unnaturally as he forced the expression onto his face.

“Ah, well I believe that’s my fault!” He cut in. Patton pulled up the voice that he used when talking with particularly stubborn parents and made his grin stretch even wider. “I’m afraid that I’ve gotten lost after using the bathroom, and Edgar here was offering to show me the way back! I do hope that it’s not too much of an issue.”

Trumpbull’s jaw clenched. Patton wondered if the action hurt with the fading black eye that she still had. The dappled yellow and purple along her face left a bitter taste in Patton’s mouth. A reminder that this woman had pushed his husband so far; that Roman had felt the need to take such an action. He hated it as much as he was proud of Roman for standing up for himself.

“No. But I’m afraid that Edgar does need to finish up the laundry. Punishments don’t work as well if we’re not consistent, something that I’m sure even _you_ would understand,” Trumpbull ground out.

Patton didn’t let his smile waver.

“Yes of course, but I thought the point of parents like me visiting was to get to know the children?” He tilted his head to the side, tapping his cheek. “And I was rather enjoying my talk with Edgar here! It would be such a shame to cut it short.”

Trumpbull opened her mouth to respond and Patton bowled over her. He couldn’t leave her alone with Edgar. It reminded him of the times he visited Logan alone. The longer he could keep the kiddos from her the better he felt. The only problem was he didn’t know _why_.

He turned back to Edgar, dismissing her altogether for all that he kept her in the corner of his vision. Edgar stared back at him, something fragile in his face that had Patton reaching out to ruffle his hair. Edgar shoved at his hand, and Patton couldn’t keep from chuckling.

“So you were saying, kiddo?” he prompted. Trumpbull’s face scrunched up at his words. Edgar glanced between the two of them.

“Um.” Edgar bit his lip and Patton shifted to block Trumpbull from his view. The action didn’t seem to help with the way that Edgar’s shoulders tensed even more. His eyes and Patton’s heart dropped. The defensive boy from earlier disappeared behind walls that Patton couldn’t understand even if he could see them.

“Fine,” Trumpbull spat out. “But just because you had that _snake_ wriggle you out of the justice you deserved doesn’t mean that I trust you around the children.”

Patton felt his grin turn proud, lifting upwards into a more genuine expression.

“Ana Marie is rather good at her job, isn’t she?” Patton said instead of focusing on the accusation in the horrible woman’s tone. He took a step to the side, gesturing at Edgar as he inched around her. “I couldn’t have asked for a better sister! Smart and beautiful and kind and strong and intelligent- wait, I think I used that.”

“Sort of,” Edgar muttered under his breath. Patton fought back a giggle. There Edgar was! Edgar shot him a nasty look like he could tell what Patton was thinking that only served to elate him even more.

Trumpbull sniffed haughtily. “She’s never going to find a husband the way she is now. A real woman should leave things like that to the men.”

Patton opened his mouth to correct her. Ana Marie could end up with a beautiful wife after all, or that one gorgeous enby that she had talked about a few months back. That wasn’t even beginning to touch the gender roles that were really only a construct of society as Mother said. Patton shut his mouth as Edgar flinched.

Maybe he’d just wear a skirt to the next visit instead. He did have a rather nice sundress he had bought for the summer after all. The blush on Roman’s face whenever Patton wore it was just the cherry on top of the _sun_ -day.

“Yes well, I’m sure she knows that already,” he said finally, “now if you excuse us, I really should be getting back to my _husband_.”

He ushered Edgar along in front of him. He didn’t know if they were heading in the right direction, but he did know that they needed to get out of there. Patton, at least, didn’t want to hear whatever Trumpbull would say in response. She already left a slick, toxic feeling in his chest. They didn’t need anymore of that.

Patton frowned. Really, what was that woman thinking? Even if her opinions weren’t so toxic, outdated, and just plain rude, then she should have at least known not to talk about them in front of the children. They all deserved the chance to learn about the world for themselves. He didn’t like her having such easy access to them.

Then again, people like her were probably why Roman had insisted on adopting through a private organization rather than the government.

They turned the corner, and almost immediately Edgar turned to look up at him wide eyes.

“ _Holy fuck_ ,” he breathed.

“Language,” Patton said sheepishly. He scratched his cheek as Edgar practically vibrated in place. He felt a blush rise on his face at the star struck expression on Edgar’s face.

“You just- it was just like- You shut her down just like that!” Edgar threw his hands in the air, taking another turn. Patton smiled softly. He could do without the awe, but the excitement in Edgar’s voice warmed him all the way down to his toes. Kids deserved moments just like this.

“Well, she wasn’t being all that nice,” Patton pointed out.

“Yeah but like! You took my side!” Edgar crowed. “No one ever takes our side.”

Patton’s smile faltered.

He reached out and ruffled Edgar’s hair again. Edgar still pushed him away and Patton laughed out loud rather than think about the meaning of Edgar’s words. He needed _something_ positive today, god help him.

Edgar side eyed him, coming to a stop in front of a very familiar door. Patton blinked and realized that he had only been a couple halls away from Roman the whole time. He’d just turned the wrong way when trying to get back. Whoops.

“You’re not _that_ bad,” Edgar said finally. Patton beamed at the compliment. Edgar furiously back peddled in response, “Not that I trust you around Logan or anything like that! I’m still gonna be mad if you hurt him!”

Patton crouched down to Edgar’s level, his smile softening. He reached out, putting his hands carefully on Edgar’s shoulders. He studied Edgar’s face carefully. He wanted to help all of these kids, every single one deserved parents and support and someone to care about them individually. He couldn’t though, no matter how much he ached for it.

“Logan is my son in all but name,” Patton told him quietly. “It is my honor to look out for him and care for him. All I want is for him to grow up happy and healthy. He deserves the best life in this whole wide world, and I want to give that to him.” Patton squeezed his shoulders. “So you have my word, that I will do everything in my power to keep him from getting hurt again.”

Edgar stared back at him, that fragile look returning. Patton reached up to cup his cheek and added, “And Edgar? For what it’s worth? I hope that you find a family for yourself as well.”

Patton stood up, and just couldn’t resist mussing up Edgar’s hair one last time. Edgar didn’t push him away, leaning into the for one short moment before taking a step back. He looked away. Patton grinned at him.

“Yeah well,” Edgar said gruffly, before stopping visibly struggling for words. Patton waited patiently for him, rocking back on his heels. “Well, don’t you tell anyone about this. I have a reputation to maintain and I can’t have a moron like you go messing it up.”

“Oh of course!” Patton chirped. He waved as Edgar took a step back, then another. He watched fondly as the boy ran back down the hall. He took a deep breath as Edgar disappeared from view, adjusting his cardigan once more.

He turned to open the door, blinking as it swung open without him. _Magic_? He’d have to tell Roman-! Oh there he was.

Patton waved at his husband. Roman leapt forward, tugging him into a crushing hug. Patton giggled. He reached up to loop his arms around Roman’s neck, and pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek.

“I’m fine, dear. Really, I am,” he said. Roman’s arms tightened around his waist for a split second, digging into Patton’s guilt at not replying to Roman’s text. Roman pulled back, searching his eyes. A pout tugged at Roman’s lips.

“Well there goes the fabulous quest I was going to take Logan on!” Roman threw his hands in the air. Patton felt fondness curl in his chest. He resolved to make it up to Roman later, there had to be something he could do after all. They hadn’t had a Disney marathon in a while.

“If it’s done, can I go back to my reading now?” Logan’s dull voice pulled Patton’s attention away from his prince. He turned and smiled at Logan. He tried not to focus on the cast or think about the crutch that Logan leaned against.

“Of course, dear,” Patton said. Roman whined, and Patton reached over to flick him in the arm gently. He tried not to feel sick at the way Logan’s eyes tracked the movement. _Later_ , he told himself, more forcefully than he probably should have.

Logan nodded at him, simple and sharp. Just as dismissive as he had been when Patton ran out of the room. Patton had to dig his nails into the words that Ma had told him. Patient and supportive. He could do this. He _had_ to do this.

Logan turned away from them. Or at least, he tried too. Patton moved without thinking as Logan stumbled, the end of his crutch slipping. Patton clamped his hand around Logan’s good arm. He hauled Logan back to a steady position, feeling the way that Logan flinched at the touch. Patton thought he could hear his heart shatter in his chest as Logan yanked his arm back.

“Don’t touch me,” Logan hissed. Patton nodded, words drying up in his throat as Logan limped back into the room. His palm burned and Patton wanted nothing more than to wrap Logan into a hug again. To apologize. To say something, _anything_ that could help.

Roman’s arms snaked around his waist once more. Patton leaned back into his solid chest, closing his eyes. He turned his head, pressing a kiss to the corner of Roman’s mouth.

“At least starting at square one again isn’t new?” he asked Roman, asked _both_ of them really. A reminder to himself that it wasn’t as bad as it could get. It was better than the time he couldn’t respond to Roman at all, certainly.

“You are oh so very good at that,” Roman offered, pulling him even closer.

“Yeah,” Patton whispered, and then repeated it, stronger than before, “Yeah I am! And so are you!” He squeezed Roman’s hands. “Whatever it takes,” he reminded them.

“Whatever it takes!” Roman echoed.

Because they would.

Because they had to.


	11. Not Every Card's a Trump part 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait y'all! Life happened :p Happy Valentine's Day! Have the start of,,, well the end of this arc :D

Roman kicked his legs, enjoying the movement as Patton packed up the cookies he had baked. Their table had been through a lot, but Roman thought it could still hold his weight just fine. Sure, it tended to groan a bit when he sat down on it, and sure it was forever stained from the time that Roman had tried to teach Ana Marie how to make strawberry mousse, but it was a good table.

The sugary smell of the frosting Patton had whipped up hung in the air. Roman reached out for the bowl. He grinned as Patton handed it back to him without a thought. Roman dragged his fingers through the extra frosting, licking his fingers clean. He hummed in delight at the pure sugar taste that exploded in his mouth.

“You know Padre,” Roman said with a grin, “I think it’s rather _sweet_ of you to be doing this.”

Patton giggled, turning around to hand Roman a completed cookie. Roman took the book-shaped pastry and bit into immediately. He licked at the frosting that smeared on his face. Patton laughed out loud, reaching up to wipe Roman’s face with a gentle thumb. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the spot when it was clean. Roman wanted to _fly_.

“I wanted to do something nice for all the kiddos there!” Patton said as he turned back to the last of his plates. “I wish I could do more for them all but Ma said that I couldn’t adopt the whole shelter!”

Roman stared at Patton’s back, watching the way that Patton’s shoulders rolled with the repeated action of taking a cookie off of the cooling rack and stacking it on one of the plates. He kicked off the table, ignoring the way that it groaned in protest at the abuse. He wrapped his arms around Patton’s waist and hooked his chin over Patton’s shoulder.

“You’ve been calling Mama a lot lately,” Roman mused. Patton probably would have brought it up with more grace if their positions had been reversed, but Roman didn’t know a better way to phrase it. He ran his thumb over Patton’s hip, a gesture as much for him as for Patton. “Is it something to do with me?”

Patton’s hands froze over the last of the cookies. His head snapped up, and his eyes searched Roman’s before his stare softened. He turned in Roman’s grip until they were pressed chest to chest. Roman could feel Patton’s heart beat against his own. Patton’s hands reached up to cradle his face.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry if I made you feel like you’ve done something to upset me,” Patton breathed, standing straighter so that he could press their foreheads together. Roman’s eyes slipped shut and the stress he had been holding on to slipped from his shoulders. “You’ve done nothing wrong Roman, I promise.”

Patton’s hand swept across his face, coming to rest on the back of his neck.

“So you’ll tell me why you’ve been talking to Mama?” Roman asked. Patton sighed, an exhausted sound that Roman wanted to pluck from the air and turn into laughter. The world had no place in making the love of his life feel that way. He wanted nothing more to sweep Patton off to some place where he’d be happy and nothing would upset him ever again.

“Do you remember when I first became a teacher?” Patton shoved his face in Roman’s shoulder, muffling his voice. Roman tightened his grip on Patton’s waist. He could, in fact, remember Patton’s excitement in getting to finally work with the kids he had been training to teach for so long.

“The time of your glorious triumph!” Roman declared, mentally deciding a victory of his own when Patton giggled. “We threw a celebration and you tried to out sing the Dragon Witch in karaoke. Larry tried to talk you into working at the theater part-time like Dot.” Roman’s voice softened. “We framed your certification. Proudest moment of my life.”

“I _certification_ -lly thought so,” Patton agreed, hands drifting down to dig into Roman’s back. Roman chuckled, warmth spreading all the way down to his toes. The things that he wouldn’t do for this man. Roman reached up to run a hand through Patton’s hair.

“What’s the matter, Pink Diamond-of-my-heart?” Roman whispered. “Talk to me dear, you know how much I love your melodious voice.”

Roman counted the heartbeats between Patton’s reply.

“I don’t have proof,” Roman’s heart cracked with Patton’s voice. Roman made a meaningless soothing noise in the back of his throat, encouraging Patton to continue. “There are just _so many_ red flags, and I don’t know what to _do_.”

“Do what?” Roman felt a knot lodge at the bottom of his stomach.

Patton pulled back, refusing to meet Roman’s eyes. Roman’s hands twitched with the need to pull Patton close again, to wipe the unhappiness from his face. Patton licked his lips, eyes closing as he tried to find the right words. Roman could barely hear him over the heartbeat in his ears, could barely understand as the world shattered around him.

“Every teacher gets trained,” Patton said softly, “on how to recognize the signs of child abuse.”

Roman’s breath caught. His ears rang. His entire body tensed, ready to flee. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the look on Patton’s face. The heartbreak and apology mixing together until it was years ago, before he knew how warm it would be in Patton’s arms.

He wrenched himself away from his own spiraling thoughts.

“How long?” He demanded. The anger flooding his chest was easier, simpler than the million other emotions hovering at the edges of his heart. “How long have you known, Patton?!”

Patton shook his head, and Roman wanted to shake him. Roman wanted to storm the group home and demand that Logan come back with them _right now_. He sucked in a sharp breath and looked away from Patton. It wasn’t fair.

_It wasn’t fair._

“Only a couple of days,” Patton said quietly. Roman whipped his head back to glare at him. “The time we visited Logan.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Roman’s voice climbed higher. He yanked at his hair, trying to understand. “You talked to Ma about this! Days, Patton, _days_! Do you just think that I’m stupid or reckless? Is that it? Don’t I have just as much right to know? About this of all things!”

“You’re right, you do. I’m so sorry,” Patton said quietly.

“He’s-” _He’s my son too!_ Roman bit down on his tongue, feeling his nails dig into his palms. Logan wasn’t their son. Not yet at least. He took a shuddering breath and hunched his shoulder.

He whispered the words he wanted to shout to the world. “He’s my _son_.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Patton repeated, taking a step towards him. He opened his arms and god, Roman was so weak for this man. He collapsed into Patton’s hold, burying his face in Patton’s neck.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Patton added.

“I know.”

“Or reckless. Well, you can be, but it’s not bad!”

“I know, Pat.”

Patton’s fingers curled around his neck slowly.

“I just didn’t know what to do.” Roman’s anger drained away at Patton’s ramblings. “There’s no proof and child abuse isn’t something to treat lightly and we’ve gotten in trouble with the home once already and I don’t know if they’d let us back a second time and-”

“Patton,” Roman cut in when Patton paused to breathe. He pulled back just enough to look Patton in the eye. He bumped their foreheads together. Patton’s mouth snapped shut and Roman grinned.

“Did you just… boink me?” Patton asked. Roman chuckled, grinning growing as he did it again.

“I need you outta your head, Rainbow Connection,” Roman said softly. “It’s a not so lovely place right now and you deserve only the best.”

Patton took a deep breath. Roman waited for him, biting down on the questions and words that hung just under his tongue. He couldn’t tell if he was shaking or if it was Patton. Either way, Roman drank in Patton’s presence. He wanted desperately in that moment to be surrounded by the rest of Patton’s family.

The yearly family reunion had already passed, but Roman missed the endless support and love that came with it. He knew that the support didn’t leave when they did, but being surrounded by the Sanders family always came with a feeling that he cherished from the bottom of his heart. It completed him in a way.

He wanted Logan to experience that.

“We need to get him out of there,” Roman said once it seemed that Patton had calmed down. “We can just- we’ll finally bring him home!”

Patton bit his bottom lip, and Roman’s heart sank. He was _done_ with waiting. He had been done with waiting weeks ago and look where waiting had gotten them!

“Why not?” he demanded. “What could possibly be worse than keeping him there? He’s being _abused_ Patton!”

“We don’t have any proof!” Patton protested.

“So what?” Roman shot back. He let go of Patton, pacing the kitchen tiles. He waved his hands through the air in sharp angry gestures. “We don’t need proof in order to save him! All we have to do is adopt him!”

“He needs stability!” Patton shouted back. Roman took a step back, his eyes wide. Patton ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. “Whatever is happening, especially if it’s abuse, means that he needs a safe space. He needs some place he can trust. If it’s not a recent thing, than he’s already got a place carved out at the group home.”

Patton took a step forward and swiped his thumb across Roman’s cheek before dropping to curl their fingers together.

“He doesn’t trust us right now,” Patton whispered. “I’m not even sure if he likes us anymore, and forcing him to move in could make things worse. We’d be taking him away from the fear and the pain yes, but also from the only place he’s felt safe. Not to mention that we can’t just- we can’t force him to do anything, Ro–” Patton leaned into his side– “He has to want it and I don’t think he does right now.”

Roman’s face crumpled, and he didn’t resist as Patton pulled him back into his arms. They staggered back until Patton hit the counter, the impact hard enough that Roman could feel it through Patton’s body. He tried to let go, but Patton gripped him even harder.

His breath shuddered. Patton stroked his back and Roman let go. He sobbed into Patton’s chest, digging his fingers into Patton’s back. A million different thoughts ran through his head but the one that emerged was-

“Why _him_?”

“I don’t know,” Patton murmured. Roman closed his eyes as Patton leaned forward and tried to savor his husband’s warmth. He held Patton up as much as Patton supported him and he took strength from Patton’s words.

“But we’re going to help him. Before school starts, before it gets worse. We’re going to bring him _home_.”

* * *

They were back.

Logan stared down at the book his hand. He didn't get it. He couldn’t understand why they were trying so hard for their second, probably not even that, choice. Almost every other kid in the home would jump at the chance to go home with the Sanders. More so now than ever. Logan didn’t think they would even need to like the men.

They all just wanted to escape.

Logan stiffened as their footsteps drew closer. His eyes cut to Emmet, the other boy sitting only an arm’s length away trying to stack blocks. Logan felt his lips twitch downwards at the sight. It was strange. He had never had a companion before and yet now, all of the children traveled in packs. Emmet never left his side.

“They brought cookies,” Emmet whispered. Logan had to focus in order to not look up at those words. Emmet could be trusted to an extent, and it wasn’t worth opening himself up again simply to be proven right.

The Sanders had proven to be especially difficult in that regard.

Logan didn’t know how many times that he had bit his tongue the last time the Sanders had visited. Every time Roman had said something so plainly inane, Logan had wanted to jump in and correct him. He had only started to curb his habit after Roman had started to slow down.

“Logan, kiddo!” Patton called out, and Logan twitched just at the sound of his voice. He tugged his book a little closer, curling around it. Emmet shifted next to him, and Logan wondered if this was the moment he was going to leave despite him having stuck around for all of Roman’s ramblings the last time.

Everyone was going to leave at one point. Emmet would be no exception. Logan refused to leave himself open for vulnerability on that front ever again.

“And a hello to you too, Emmet,” Patton greeted cheerfully. Logan could hear the scrape of the plate that meant Patton had slid the cookies towards them. Logan wondered where Roman’s usual loud exuberant greeting was, before he shook his head minutely. He didn’t care if Roman greeted him or not, because he didn’t care if Roman was there or not.

Emmet glanced at him, a question in his eyes. The problem was that Logan didn’t know what question was there. He had thought he had made it clear that he didn’t _care_ about what the other children did. Somehow, it didn’t stop Edgar from ambushing him in the hallway to tell Logan that he approved of the Sanders (strange) or Emmet from following his lead in everything when it came to the Sanders (even stranger).

His silence must have answered whatever Emmet had asked.

“Hello Mr. Sanders,” Emmet greeted quietly. Logan watched out of the corner of his eye as Emmet unfolded like a flower. Logan wondered if Patton had grinned at him, in that bright way that warmed Logan down to his toes-

He shook his head and shoved it even deeper into his book.

He didn’t care. Bitterness coated the back of his tongue, despite the sweets hovering just out of his reach. Bitterness at Patton and Roman. At adults in general. At himself. Patton didn’t care and so Logan wouldn’t care. If he repeated it to himself enough, perhaps it would be true.

“And how are you kiddos doing?” Patton asked gently. Emmet glanced at him again. Logan bit his tongue and stared at the words on the page in front of him.

“We’re alright, Mr. Sanders,” Emmet said, caution in his tone. Logan agreed with him. An adult asking that question wasn’t to be trusted. The bruises on his skin weighed him down. For a brief moment, Dr. Hope’s words rang in his ears. Logan brushed them aside. A moment of hope wasn’t worth a month of pain.

“Aha!” Logan flinched at the sudden echo of Roman’s voice in the room. “I have found the magnificent activity that we will be doing for today!”

Logan flipped the page of his book. He hadn’t actually read the words on the page; he struggled to focus like he had before lately. Losing himself in a fantasy- no, not a fantasy, he had gotten rid of those. Losing himself in the educational books he had been reading meant that he wouldn’t notice if someone came up to him.

The sound of Roman slamming something onto the table snapped Logan out of his thought. He heard it clatter, and Logan closed his eyes, breathing steadily as he tried not to snap at the man. He just wanted to be left alone, and neither of them would do that.

Was it too much to ask?

For a quiet, safe moment?

“And! It’s one that I think Specs-tacular will rather enjoy!” Roman sounded so pleased with himself. Logan almost looked up just to see what Roman thought he would enjoy. Instead, he dug his fingers into the cover of his book. Roman probably wouldn’t even have a very good idea of what he liked, Logan told himself firmly.

“Oooooh, chess?” Patton asked.

Logan’s shoulders inched towards his ears. He had always wanted to play chess but none of the other kids had wanted to play with him. His nails scraped against his book as he imagined digging them into his hopes and _pulling_ them out of his heart like weeds.

He didn’t want to imagine the way that Patton and Roman would play. Roman, loud and reckless, not thinking ahead at all. Easy and yet, a challenge. Patton with whimsical moves for whatever caught his attention. Or maybe Patton would read his opponents better than the board. Logan chewed on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to learn more about them.

_He didn’t want to learn it._

“Chess! Only the bravest will challenge an Evil King such as I to a battle of wits and strategy!” Logan let his eyes dart up for a brief second at the clink of wood against wood. Patton and Roman’s attention sat on the chess board in front of them, taking care in how they set it up. Logan dropped his eyes once more before they could look back at him.

Emmet shifted even closer to him. Logan did look fully at Emmet, noting the wide eyes that Emmet glanced at him with. Something about the Sanders left Emmet sitting stiffly. Logan shifted in his own seat, leaning up against Emmet’s shoulder. Someone else being nervous set him even more on edge.

“Do you want to play Logan?” Patton asked. Logan hunched his shoulders even more. He didn’t understand. More than anything, the feeling that he was missing something left him _hating_ the situation. They kept talking at him even when he didn’t respond. They acted like they always had. They kept _pushing_.

Why would they push for a child they already gave up on?

“What about you, Emmet?” Patton offered when met with Logan’s silence. Emmet glanced at him again. Logan’s chest tightened. Why wouldn’t Patton’s attention turn to the child acting the way that he wanted? This was what Logan wanted in the end. Patton and Roman giving up on him, tricking him no longer.

Right?

Emmet shook his head, and Logan breathed in deeply. His arm twitched and he reached over to run his fingers over the words on the page instead of stopping to think about- about anything at all. He refused to think about the way that he had relaxed at Emmet’s quiet denial. He couldn’t want the Sanders to leave him alone and hope that they didn’t adopt anyone else at the same time.

It meant that he still wanted them to adopt him. It took away that chance of freedom from someone else. It didn’t make sense. And so, logically, Logan wouldn’t relax at Emmet’s refusal, and he didn’t want the Sanders to bring him home.

“Well that’s alright kiddos! Roman and I can just play each other,” Patton assured them. Logan leaned away from the movement in the corner of his eyes before realizing that Patton was reaching for a cookie and nothing more. The crutch next to his chair suddenly felt less like a tool to move around and more like a shackle. If anything happened, he couldn’t run away.

“It seems that the rift between the king and his dragon grows!” Roman declared. “White or black, my love?”

“You’ve seen me play Ana Marie enough, dear,” Patton teased lightly. The friendliness in his voice placed a rock in Logan’s throat and he couldn’t say something even if he had wanted to. “Black. The poor dears deserve more love.”

Even though white had the advantage. It didn’t make any sense to Logan. Then again, Patton had never made sense.

“I shall take white like my valiant steed then!” Patton’s giggle accompanied Roman’s antics, as it always had. Logan wished they’d leave. He’d wish it over and over again until it was true. Until their presence didn’t feel like someone had stuck a hole in his chest. Until he could curl up in a comfortable numbness to shield himself from the world.

For a few glorious minutes, they all sat in silence, broken only by the quiet clink of pieces moving across the board. The lack of commentary made it easy for Logan to slip back into ignoring them. Logan should have known better than to expect it to last. The Sanders would never be able to sit in peace.

“Ro, darling, if you do that you’re going to lose that knight,” Patton’s voice may have cut through the silence but it did nothing to help with Logan’s confusion. What sort of chess player told their opponent when they would make a bad move?

“Ah, you are right, but if I do it then I can set up a trade between your rook and check, giving me the advantage in the long run,” Roman countered, leaving Logan even more baffled. The two went back and forth, explaining their plans; yet even that didn’t stop the steady clink of the pieces being moved.

Patton tutted, and Logan wondered if he was grinning even then.

“Look out! Your queen’s in danger!”

Roman’s laugh rumbled out across the room. Logan felt it settle in next to his bones. Pleasant vibrations that he tried to ignore.

“She’s been warned!” Roman declared. A hand waved out of the corner of Logan’s eyes, a physical reminder of Roman’s excitement. “A daring bishop- no! A daring wizard has come to warn her of his kingdom’s betrayal! A plan to overtake their lands– an Evil King wanting it all for his own!”

“Ooooor,” Patton dragged the word out, the excitement in his own tone growing. “Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. The neighboring kingdom simply wants to talk to them!”

Roman gasped.

“Genius! Quick, Logan I need an idea as to why they want to talk!”

Logan blinked at his book. Surprise flooded his veins before he could stop it. Roman had talked to him. Logan had thought they would get lost in their own world like they always did. He offered nothing. He could think of several ideas, starting with wanting a new home-

No. Logan didn’t have any ideas for him.

“That’s alright, bud,” Roman waved off his silence. “Keep an open mind for the next time! Let’s say-” he paused and Logan could picture him stroking his chin. He refused to look up and find out if that was true. “-let’s say that they need resources the other land has!”

“So they hatch a plot to switch places!” Patton’s chair creaked with his excited bouncing. Emmet’s eyes bounced back and forth between the two. A light grew in his eyes and Logan thought back to the first time that Patton and Roman had woven a story around him. The brimming excitement that hummed through him, the way the world seemed so much brighter.

Logan told himself that he didn’t miss that.

“Yes! The valiant realm of, uh, the Realm of Snow and Diamonds sends a messenger on horseback to check if the wizard’s words are true. He treks over mountains and crosses a raging river to get there,” Roman’s voice dropped into something lower, something that Logan thought he remembered Ms. Hudson describe as a story teller’s voice. “His steed struggling against the frothing water.”

Logan closed his eyes. He could picture the horse - a stallion most likely - pushing against water that reached his chest, heaving with exertion. Logan could see the rider tugging at the reins, fighting to get the stallion under control, desperation in his eyes. A desperation that showed how important to his realm this quest was.

The rider, Logan decided, wasn’t heavy set but lean. Lean with brown hair and bright glittering green eyes. Quick to smile, as quick as he was to yell. Someone who looked up to knights and heroes.

“Along the way, he runs into a stable boy!” A piece slid across the wood of the board, reminding Logan that they were supposed to be playing chess. But not for long. Patton’s voice didn’t hold the same quality as Roman’s, not that it stopped Roman’s voice from sounding endlessly fond as he replied.

“And along the way he runs into a stable boy,” Roman agreed, the smooth roll of his voice never changing. “But this stable boy is more than he appears to be.”

“How?” Emmet’s voice cut in, breathless and enthralled.

“Well you see, this stable boy was a prodigy-”

A young boy took form in the back of Logan’s mind. With messy hair, too large clothes, and a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Only this boy was as quick to smile as he was to give others information. He laughed freely and didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

The boy offered the rider a place to stay. He lead the stallion into the stable that he tended and offered a helping hand to the rider. The rider sent him a grateful smile. He wanted to thank the boy by giving him a better place to stay most likely. Or a hug. Affection in any form, knowing the two who wove the story.

Logan’s enjoyment withered and died.

Maybe that was why they came back. To mock him with everything that he couldn’t have. They brought cookies to show that he would never have them again. They teased and loved each other to show that he would never fit between them. They wove stories that he would never hear and spoke of a family that he would never earn.

“Stop,” Logan whispered. A quiet word drowned out by their laughter.

His heart thudded against his chest. His breath quickened. He wanted to reach over and claw the laughter out of their throats. He wanted to demand why they had left. He wanted to curl up in Patton’s arms and never move. He wanted the burning tinge in the back of his throat to finally stop.

“We can’t weave a story of fantasy without a Dragon Witch, Sunshine Future! Your sister would have my head and you know it!”

Logan’s breath caught in his throat. He knew nothing about Patton’s family. Nothing about Roman’s. He knew nothing about _them_. Roman wouldn’t even tell him what he did for a living. The game they played suddenly loomed in the back of his mind, and Logan wondered if it wasn’t meant to be a game. Just a simple way to keep a nosy kid from knowing what he did.

Logan swiped at his burning eyes. Emmet glanced at him, a long learned caution keeping Emmet from commenting on it fully. Logan knew that drawing attention to each other only made things worse. They both did.

“A dragon witch that just wants to protect the forest?”

They drowned everything else out. Logan swallowed thickly. It had been a comforting blanket at first, but now he couldn’t _breathe_. They weren’t _listening_. No one ever listened-

Logan didn’t know if they jumped. Emmet certainly did in the corner of his eye. Logan simply stared at the book that had thumped against the table, scattering pieces from the force of his throw. His crutch clattered to the floor as he half stood up.

“I said, _stop_!” His voice cracked, and he swiped at his face again. His hands trembled. The silence that engulfed the room threatened to swallow him whole. He curled in on himself, reaching up with his uncasted arm to grip his chest. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears from his eyes.

He wanted them gone. He wanted to go back to feeling nothing and expecting nothing.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut. The sound of clothes rustled around him. Part of him wanted to move, to shuffle back as far as he could and find a corner to hide in. Yelling was bad. He wasn’t supposed to get upset at the people who took care of him.

“Hey there kiddo,” Patton whispered. Logan flinched back. “Hey, no it’s alright. Deep breaths. There we go. We’re alright, aren’t we sweetheart?”

Logan’s grip loosened before he clenched his fingers around the worn cloth again. It took the ever growing silence from Roman for him to realize that _sweetheart_ had been directed at him. His eyes burned even more. Even if he wanted to reply, all the words in his throat jumbled together into a ball he couldn’t untangle.

He wanted to say they were supposed to be different. He wanted to demand they stop lying to him. He wanted to ask _why_. Why him, why leave, why wasn’t he good enough?

“A truly impressive throw,” Roman’s voice cut in. A weight dipped on his legs, and Logan reached down to grip his book. The only remaining shield he had left. “But it would be a tragedy for you to lose such a fine tool for learning.”

Clothes shifted again. Logan wondered, more than a little bitterly, how hard Patton was trying not to reach out and touch him. He wouldn’t fall for the warmth again. He wouldn’t be drawn in by kind touches and empty gestures.

They meant nothing.

He meant nothing to them.

“I- I’m sorry Logan,” Patton said quietly. “We should have been listening to you more. There isn’t anyone in the world with better words than you after all! No matter how big or small, what you say is important to us.”

Logan tried to focus on the air passing through his nose than the words he desperately wanted to be true. In then out. In and out. A steady rhythm that encompassed almost all life on earth. Oxygen, the miracle of Earth.

“You know! It kinda reminds me of my sister actually,” Patton continued. Logan’s cast lay heavy against his book as his spine curved even more. “She’s always had a lot to say too! Too many words for one person Mama always said.” Patton giggled. “In fact, Mama once asked Ana if she took all the words from me when we were children. Ana would say everything that I needed to so there was no reason for me to talk.”

Logan cracked his eyes open. He caught sight of Patton’s hand; Patton having crouched down to his level at some point. It twitched with the need to reach out. Touch written in Patton’s very bones. Nothing like Logan.

“I think you two would get along, if you meet,” Patton whispered. “Would you like that? To meet my sister?”

_Yes_ , something in Logan screamed. _More than anything in the world._

Logan said nothing. He let the question hang in the air. He shifted as it turned as heavy as his cast. He stared down at his arm. The shirt he wore held on by bare threads, but it was enough to cover what he needed it to. He leaned back. Space could give him the air he needed.

The movement tugged his sleeve up. Purple and blue flashed in his eyes. Logan surged forward, tugging his sleeve down over the bruises that Trumpbull had given him after the Sanders’s last visit. He didn’t have the courage to look up and see if they had noticed.

“Family,” Patton’s voice somehow managed to be even softer than before, like he had swallowed fabric softener for his throat. “Family doesn’t give up on family. No matter the reason. No matter how long it takes. An outburst or two is expected.”

Roman laughed. A rich sound that mingled with Patton’s softness. Not his usually booming laughter, but a softer chuckle.

“You can yell all you want,” Roman added, “It will take more than that to scare us away.” Logan glanced over at Emmet. Emmet blinked back at him. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Where was the anger?

“It’s alright to get angry, Logan.” Logan dug his fingers into his book. No questions. No pushing for explanations like Dr. Hope had wanted. Something in Logan relaxed. Another part, bitter and dark asked if it was because they didn’t really care. He didn’t know which one to listen to.

“Would you like some space, sweetheart?” Patton asked. Logan wanted to nod. To do so would have been to acknowledge their presence again, and he had already given them one opening for the day. Patton must have taken his silence as an answer, the same rustling that marked him crouching down letting Logan know that he stood.

“Alrighty then, we’ll see you again soon, Logan,” Patton said quietly. Then, strangely he repeated the words again. “We’ll see you again soon.” A beat. “Would you be willing to walk me out, Emmet?”

Emmet glanced at him. Logan glanced away. The other boy hopped off his chair and trailed along at Patton’s side as they both headed for the door. Patton paused at the doorway, something Logan only knew because his voice sounded one last time.

“I wish you the best day Logan.”

Logan struggled not to look up as Patton turned to leave, the soft goodbye digging into his bones. He gripped the edges of his book even harder as Roman crouched down to his level instead of leaving. Always coming down to his level instead of insisting that Logan look up at him. A paradox against what he was normally like.

Logan wouldn’t let it charm him this time.

“Hey, I know we messed up when we didn’t let you know that the home had us kicked out,” Roman said softly, and Logan’s head finally snapped up at those words. “So I’m not going to tell you not to be upset with us.”

What?

They hadn’t been kicked out. Trumpbull had said-

Oh.

_Oh_.

“But I want you to know that we’re sorry,” Roman continued, heedless of the realization rewriting Logan’s world once more. The same earnest soft expression on his face that was always there when he talked to Logan. Logan’s fingers creaked on his book as he fought back the sudden urge to fling himself into Roman’s arms and never leave again. He could be wrong. He could be _wrong_.

“Say the word,” Roman said, “And we’ll find someone else. But until you tell us that without a doubt you don’t want us as your parents, well. Patton-” Roman’s face bloomed into something so soft and loving that Logan couldn’t tear his eyes away. He didn’t think he has seen anything like it, or even name half the emotions crossing Roman’s face in that moment.

“Patton doesn’t give up on people easy. I would know. He never gave up on my dumb ass, and don'ttellhimIsaiditthatway!" Roman’s hand reached out, and for once, Logan didn’t pull away. His scalp tingled from the warmth of Roman’s hand as he ruffled Logan’s hair.

“As for me, well.” Roman smirked and winked, "I've been reliably informed by a rather smart individual that I'm a 'parasite they can't quite get rid of' so I'll be sticking around long after." He stood, and Logan tracked the movement with his eyes. “We’ll see you soon bud, promise.”

Logan stared at his back, eyes wide and grip on his book slowly loosening. Despite his best effort, a warmth unfolded in his chest. A hope that he couldn’t deny. A hope that terrified him to his core. Because if this one went wrong, Logan wasn’t sure what he’d do.

“Okay,” Logan whispered to himself. “Okay, if you say so-”

“Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10/13 the end approaches


End file.
